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Incomparable  Bellairs 


"Bf  ^mes  SrEgerton  Castle 

THE  STAR  DREAMER 
THE  PRIDE  OF  JENNICO 
THE  SECRET  ORCHARD 
THE  BATH  COMEDY 
THE    HOUSE    OF    ROMANCE 


'By  Egerton  Castle 


YOUNG  APRIL 
THE  LIGHT  OF    SCARTHEY 

CONSE(iUENCES 
MARSHFIELD    the  OBSERVER 

SCHOOLS  AND  MASTERS  OF 
FENCE  .  ENGLISH  BOOK- 
PLATES •  THE  JERNING- 
HAM  LETTERS  •  LE  ROMAN 
DU     PRINCE     OTHON 


J/ 


LONDON' 


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THE 


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ncomparal 
Bdlairs 


^^ 


Sp  Egerton  Castle 


NeiD  Tork 

Frederick  i^.Siokes  Company 

VublisKers 


Copyright,  igoj,  by  P.  F.  Collier  &  Sen 

Copyright,  igoj,  by  Egerton  Cattle 

Copyright,  igo^,  by  Frederick  A.  Stokes  Company 


All  rights  rtser'ved 


This  edition  published  in  November,  1903 


To 

Who,  by  his  delicate  art,  has  made  all  that  is  shapely  and 

charming  in  the  Eighteenth  Century  live  again  for  us, 

as  with  a  fragrance  of  old  Pot-Pourri  and  a 

rustle  of  brocades  no  loom  holds  now  the 

secret  of;  as,  with  a  lost  grace,  to  the 

dance  of  little  high  heels  stilled 

long  ago  and  the  measures 

of  a  forgotten 

music 


/w/d^/C^O  J  t/0 


TO    THE    READER 


yj  SS  UME  that  we  are  friends.      Assume 
.yj-    A  common  taste  for  old  costume^  — 
Old  pictures^ — books.       Then  dream  us  sitting - 
Us  two  —  in  some  soft  lighted  room. 


Silent  at  firsts  in  time  we  glow  ; 
Discuss  '•'■eclectics"  high  and  low; 
Inspect  engravings^  ^twixt  us  passing 
The  fancies  ^  Detroy,  Moreau. 


And  so  we  fall  to  why  and  how 
The  fragile  figures  smile  and  bow  ; 
Divine^  at  lengthy  the  fable  under     . 

Thus  grew  the  *■'■  scenes"  that  follow  now. 

(From   Proverbs  in   Porcelain. 

Austin  Dobson.) 


CONTENTS 


TITLE-PAGE    bj  Fred  Pegram 

PAGE 

TO    THE    READER viii 

FRONTISPIECE 

The  acknowledged  ^ueen  of  Bath    ....  xii 

By  Fred  Pegram 

INTRODUCTORY 

Concerning  Kitty xiii 

The  Prologue xxii 

THE    SCENES 

/    The  Bridegroom  Reject / 

//    Grey  Domino JO 

III  To  the  Tune  of  Little  Red  Heels     ...  g6 

IV  Rachel  Peace 14.7 

V    The  Little  Lover 195 

VI    The  Black  Lace  Mask 239 


The  acknowledged  .^ueen  of  Bath 


"  /tDVENTURES:  it  has  been  said, 
/J  '' co7ne  to  the  advent2t7'02Ls''  —  'Tisa 
^  JL  glib  enough  saw.  but  yon  may  see  the 
truth  of  it  any  day,  if  you  care  to  watch  in 
the  Theatre  of  Life.  And  adveiitures  come 
not  only  to  the  darer  of  perils  by  flood  ajid 
field,  to  the  player  with  fii^e  and  wielder  of 
the  sword's  argument,  but  also  to  the  bold 
taker  of  shares  in  the  perpettial  lottery  of 
Love.  Ln  the  pretty  game  of  "'Love  and 
Hazard^'  as  well  as  in  the  sterner  one  of 
War,  'tis  your  fine  decisive  spirit  which  rules 
circumstance  and  leads  the  oambler  unscathed 
amid  pitfalls  where  the  timid,  or  even  the 
merely  prudent,  are  like  to  leave  life  or  limb. 

Love  —  the  chief  adventure  of  life,  some 
maintain  —  comes  to  the  lovely,  to  the  lovable, 
as  sure  as  mountain  stream  to  lake ;  and  to 
such  as  are  in  love  with  love,  love  adventures 

"  come  not  single  spies  but  in  battalions.^' 

[  xiii  ] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


Nevertheless^  let  the  heai't  be  pure,  let  even 
the  taste  be  but  fastidiotis,  then  will  these 
same  aclve7itures  link  yoic  a  chap  let  of  jewelled 
memories  —  to  be  retold  smiling,  i7i  the  m,ore 
sedate  Jiours  of  life. 


Mist7'ess  Kitty  Bel  lairs,  "  Incomparable 
Bcllairs','  as,  in  an  eiithtisiastic  moment  she 
had  bee7i  proclaimed  by  Air.  Stafford — that 
fi^ie  connoisseur  if  ever  there  lived  07ie !  — 
had,  among  her  unnumbered  lovable  qtiali- 
ties,  paramount,  a  7nost  fastidious  daintiness. 
Hence,  no  doubt,  the  delicate  colour  afid  the 
fragrance  of  that  chap  let  of  tender  triumphs, 
of  sweet  C7'ises  and  emotions,  of  unexhausted 
romances  which,  already  in  this,  the  I'osy 
lustre  of  her  young  tzuenties,  she  could  draw 
through  the  fingers  of  inemory. 

"  Aly  dear^'  {she  is  recorded  to  have  said 
to  her  weeping  friend.  Lady  Standish)  "/ 
have  had  thirty-seven  declared  adoi'crs  these 
three  years,  a^id  never  one  tired  of  me  yet  !  — 
Poor  Bellairs  ! "  {as  she  pursued  on  that 
occasiofi,  zuith  a  light  sigh),  "  he  had  two 
wives  before  me  aiid  he  zvas  sixty-nine  whe7i 

[  xiv  ] 


CONCERNING     KITTY 


he  died,  btU  he  told  me  ivith  his  dying  breath 
that  'twas  I  gave  him  all  the  joy  he  ever 
knew. 

The  boast  would  have  been  a  pretty  one  on 
any  fair  woman  s  lips,  but  'twas  the  prettier 
on  Kitty  s  that  it  was  true  to  the  letter. 

Wedded,  in  her  innocent  teens,  to  a  won- 
drous wealthy  Nabob  —  an  excellent  gentle- 
7nan  withal,  who  had  requested  the  little 
Beauty,  in  a  phrase  that  held  humour  as  well 
as  pathos,  "  to  condescend  to  be  his  widow  "  — 
Kitty  had  been  released  after  not  too  many 
years  of  faithful  compajtionship  and  solicit- 
ous care  spe7tt  at  the  zuatcrs  of  Bath  and  else- 
where. Released  with  two  easy  tears  and  a 
clear  conscience ;  experienced  but  not  embit- 
tered, and  by  no  means  inconsolable  ;  released, 
in  short,  to  all  the  delights  of  a  charming 
world. 

So  much  for  "  Poor  Be  Hairs  I  " 

"  These  three  years  "  referred  to  the  period 
of  brilliant  young  widozvhood  during  which 
Kitty  had  become  the  acknowledged  Queen 
of  Bath  —  during  which,  also,  innumerable 
had  been  the  atte77ipts  to  provide  her  with  a 
happy  consort. 

But  if  Kitty  the  girl  had  submitted  to  a 
marriage  de  convenance,  Kitty  the  woman,  in 

[xv] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


the  ripeness  of  her  beauty^  had  no  mind  to 
deal  with  Love  otherwise  than  as  her  slave. 
Tints,  at  the  particular  date  at  which  we  take 
up  these  episodes^  she  had  already  collected 
a  variety  of  experieiices  of  the  heart,  which, 
although  inconclicsive,  had  not  bee7i  devoid  of 
sweetness  to  her^  nor  of  pride. 


It  would  be  unseejjily  perhaps,  at  such  a 
stage  of  Jier  life,  to  draw  a  parallel  between 
mistress  Bellairs  and  the  celebrated  Made- 
moiselle dc  I'Enclos,  who  was  awarded  the 
filial  crown  of  feminine  glory  iii  a  passionate 
declaration  d  amour  a7id  an  offer  of  marriage 
on  her  seventieth  birthday.  But,  ivhatever 
the  Fates  might  have  in  reserve  for  the  fcture 
Kitty,  she  had  already  this  Tnnch  in  common 
with  the  much  beloved  Ninon,  that  she  never 
lost  the  devotion  of  one  of  her  ma?ty  rejected 
lovers.  Some  may  have  ascended  only  a  step 
or  tiuo  of  her  throne ;  some  others  {as  in  the 
case  of  my  Lord  Verney  and  that  of  Mr. 
OLIara,  whose  love-chase  formed  the  main 
theme  ^y  the  Bath  Comedy),  may  have  all  but 
stepped  into  the  thro7ie  itself.  But  every  one, 
on  retu7'7iing  to  level  g7'ound,  sedulously  re- 
su77ied  his  post  of  coiirtier  a7id  still  had  it  in 

[  -^vi  ] 


CONCERNING     KITTY 


his  soul  to  sing  to  Kitty,  in  Herrick's  words 
to  his  Anthea: 

Bid  me  to  live  aJid  I  will  live 
Thy  protestant  to  be.  .  .  . 

Bid  that  heart  stay,  and  it  will  stay 
To  honour  thy  decree. 

The  disposal  of  so  precious  a  thing  as 
Mistress  Bellairs  hand  —  a  prize  certainly 
held  as  high  in  her  own  estimation  as  in 
that  of  her  '''' protestaitts  "  —  was  naturally 
a  matter  of  9nuch  concerti,  of  serious  con- 
sideration. 

It  was  not  of  Kitty  that  could  be  said: 

"  The  woinan  who  deliberates  is  lost.'' 

Her  deliberation  was  exquisite.  It  was 
subtilised  by  ambitions  of  happiness,  of  satis- 
faction beyo7id  the  usual  ineasure  of  woman- 
hood. On  the  other  hand,  she  had  a  secret 
tcnreadiness  to  think  the  world  well  lost  for 
love.  In  truth,  along  the  easy  road  of  a  quite 
satisfactory  life,  turning  points  should  be  ap- 
proached with  caution  :  the  new  path  may,  of 
course,  lead  to  an  ejzchanting  prospect ;  but 
again  .  .  .  In  short  the  question  of  a  second 
marriage  was  fraught  with  anxieties, 
b  [  xvii  ] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


Meanwhile  V  was  clean  acrainst  Nature  that 
such  treas2ires  {and,  tipon  such  a  theme,  it 
would  little  Jit  us  to  mention  mere  wealth  of 
gold  otherwise  than  as  a  further  plcasi7tg  cir- 
cumstance) that  such  treasures  of  loveliness 
should  re77iain  long  without  a  legitimate 
master.  Therefore,  after  she  had  shaken  off 
her  enfangleinent  with  the  far  too  solonn 
Lord  Verney,  and  further,  had  trampled  with 
adorable  little  feet  upon  the  far  too  mercurial 
Mr.  O Haj'as  inextino-ttishable  devotion  —  all 
in  the  diplomatic  manner  set  forth  in  the 
Bath  Comedy  —  the  tinsolved  problem  had 
become  a  main  topic  and  one  of  prodigious 
interest  in  the  gayer  world  at  the  Sp7'ings. 


The  latest  candidate  is  now  Mr.  Staffo7'd. 
He  has  his  recommendations  —  V  is  a  favozir- 
ite  with  man  and  woman,  an  admitted  wit ;  a 
spark  with  a  fine  head  and  a  good  leg  ;  a  rake 
with  a  mighty  delicate  conception  that  life  is 
to  be  tasted  and  not  greedily  devoured — tJie 
LaugJmig  Philosopher  of  Beaux.  And  it 
is  at  the  point  of  Kitty  s  formal  engagement 
to  this  silvery  gentleman  that  we  propose  to 
take  up  with  her  fresh  journey  towards 
matrimony. 

[  xviii  ] 


CONCERNING    KITTY 


In  this  Sentiine7ital Proo;ress  —  which  is  all 
of  the  Bath  Road —  we  shall  vteet  with  many 
of  the  actors  of  yesteryear  s  Bath  Comedy. 
Amo7ig  the^n^  Mr.  O' Hara,  inipccunions  as 
ever  and  as  ever  btioyed  up  with  disinter- 
ested devotion.  Miss  Lydia,  the  widow's  own 
W07nan,  still  addicted  to  secret  interference 
in  her  niistress's  affairs.  Master  Lawrence 
{whose  little  boy  drezu  szuh  amazing  clever 
portraits),  ge7iial  host  of  the  Bear  Inn.  My 
Lord  Verney  only  looms  in  the  background : 
a  memory  and  a  zvarning ;  but  his  lordship, 
the  Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells,  has  a  weighty 
part  towards  the  jotirneys  end.  Crook-eyed 
Captain  Spicer  also,  the  Icd-captain  and  fas  h- 
ionable  bear-leader,  darts  in  and  oict,  among 
the  company :  not  to  his  ozun  advancement, 
it  must  be  owiied,  biit  {iii  a  way  as  indirect 
as  his  vision)  to  the  promotion  of  the  more 
intportant  travellers'  happiness.  And,  as  in 
all  journeys,  new  personalities  appear  at  the 
various  stages  —  a  lovely  one  among  them, 
Rachel  Peace;  another,  less  easily  described. 
Lord  Mandeville  ;  and  the  youthful  iiigenuous 
figtire  of  one  Mr.  fernigan  of  Costessy. 

Shape  our  course  for  a  chosen  harbour  as 
carefully  as  we  list,  we  are  always  at  the 

[xix] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


mercy  of  the  accident  of  other  lives  tJian 
ours.  Kitty,  the  iviperioiis  and  mtich-obcyed, 
confidently  believed,  of  course,  that  she  held 
the  guiding  thread  of  her  own  voyage  in  her 
own  pretty  hands.  Bnt  we,  behind  the  scefies, 
looking  around  her  life,  fi^id  many  causes 
{quite  undreamed  of  by  her  pretty  head)  which 
brotighf,  say,  her  to  this  halt  and  to  yonder 
turning,  and  at  last  to  that  final  haven  which, 
certes,  had  been  well  out  of  her  oj^iginal  reckon- 
ing;  we  find,  in  short,  the  birth  of  all  these 
winds  of  Fate  —  and  V  is  in  a  singularly 
unexpected  quarter. 

On  a  certain  torrential  7iight  of  September, 
my  Lord  Mandcville,  a  nobleman  of  wide 
repute  in  Town,  sought  refuge,  and  the  relaxa- 
tion of  an  idle  hour,  in  the  gree^i-room  of 
"  the  Little  Theatre  "  {then  leased  by  the  cele- 
brated Mr.  Foote  to  some  travelliiig  co7?zpany). 
N'oiv,  nothing  could  be  7nore  piirely  personal 
than  what  happened  that  evening  to  his  lord- 
ship, who  at  the  time,  moreover,  was  as  totally 
unk7iozvn  to  Mistress  Bellairs  as  she  to  him. 
And  yet  it  remains  certain  that  7ione  of  the 
events  which  had  such  a  marked  iufiucnce 
upon  her  matrimonial  destiny  would  have 
come  to  pass,  if  {while  7inconscious  Mistress 

[xx] 


M     CONCERNING     KITTY     -,1 

Kitty  was  discussing  weddi^ig  fal-lals  with 
her  tire-ivoinan  in  Queen  Sgzcare,  Bat/i),  my 
Lord  Mandcville  had  not  had,  as  we  said,  aiz 
empty  evening  to  Jill,  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
the  Hay  market,  Londo7i. 

"  Incomparable  Bellairs','  being  our  leadi7ig 
lady  in  the  cojjzpany,  the  chief  role  must  ever 
fall  to  her ;  yet  in  this  opening  episode,  the 
cojisequences  of  which  will  later  on  so  greatly 
co7icern  her,  she  actiially  appears  neither  in 
person  nor  in  spirit.  For  this  reason  we  will 
relate  it  apart  and,  under  the  name,  if  you 
will,  of  The   Heart  of  Mandeville,  call  it: 

The  Prologue. 


[  '^xi  ] 


A  !  your  lordship,"  cried  Miss  Peggy 
Pommeroy,  turning  her  celebrated 
blue  eyes  roguishly  upon  Lord 
^:=lI  IMandeville. 
They  sat  together  upon  the  striped  sofa  in 
the  green-room ;  she,  for  his  entertainment, 
passing  comments  on  each  actor  and  actress 
who  lingered  in  the  vicinity  of  the  mirror, 
awaiting  the  call,  or  hurried  through  to  the 
curtain.  His  lordship  listened,  all  insolent 
lanofuor.  At  rare  intervals  a  little  snort 
would  escape  him  — his  nearest  approach  to 
laughter.  And,  if  he  were  moved  to  such 
expressions  of  amusement,  it  was  not  so 
much  with  Miss  Pommeroy,  as  at  her.  Yet 
it  was  all  glory  for  Peggy  to  have  him  beside 
her,  the  most  notorious  roue  upon  the  Town, 
and  the  most  fastidious.  There  were  ladies, 
and  great  ladies  too,  as  she  was  aware,  who 

[  xxii  ] 


^The  heart  of  MANDEVILLE^ 

would  lightly  have  given  all  their  admirers 
for  Lord  Mandeville's  indolent  notice.  What 
mattered  it  that  she  well  knew,  in  her  heart, 
how  empty  was  this  conquest;  well  knew 
that  not  a  smile  or  a  frown  in  her  whole 
repertory  had  really  the  power  to  charm 
him ;  that  he  but  lolled  at  her  side  because, 
having  drifted  into  the  green-room,  this 
weeping  autumn  night,  he  was  simply  too 
lazy  to  move  again  and  pulled  her  curls  with 
no  more  emotion  than  he  played  with  the 
seals  at  his  fob  ?  The  others  knew  naught 
of  all  this ;  and  it  was  enough  for  Peg.  Oh, 
how  her  great  eyes  shone  and  ogled ;  how 
arch  was  she  and  how  coy !  How  her  ripe 
lips  smiled  and  how  loud  (as  each  new  comer 
entered  the  room)  they  rebuked  some  unex- 
istent  ardour! 

Of  all  passions,  vanity  is  perhaps  that 
which,  gratified,  affords  the  most  complete 
and  lasting  satisfaction.  Peg's  bosom  swelled 
with  triumph  as  she  noted  the  impression 
produced  upon  her  colleagues  —  how  the 
Noble  Father  frowned  and  strutted  with 
fresh  zest  as  he  passed ;  how  her  dear  rival, 
feigning  to  examine  the  position  of  a  patch, 
sought  to  catch  his  lordship's  eye  in  the 
mirror,  and  failed. 

[  xxiii  ] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


*'  La !  your  lordship,"  cried  Peggy,  very 
loud  and  shrill,  "  I  vow  I  must  not  listen 
when  you  say  such  things ! " 

Lord  Mandeville  opened  his  heavy  lids  a 
little  wider  for  an  instant,  and  almost  hesi- 
tated on  speech.  It  would  have  been  hard 
indeed  for  Miss  Pommeroy  to  have  listened, 
for  he  had  not  uttered  anything  more  audi- 
ble than  a  grunt  these  five  minutes.  But 
Miss  de  Vyne  (the  dear  rival)  could  not  be 
aware  of  this ;  and  the  glance  of  furious 
envy  that  she  darted  at  her  friend  as  she 
flounced  out  of  the  room  filled  the  young 
lady  with  ecstasy.  She  had  moreover  suc- 
ceeded beyond  her  intention.  For,  just 
before  Miss  de  Vyne's  exit,  Mr.  Montagu 
Mortemar  had  made  his  entrance :  and,  for 
the  first  time  in  his  life,  he  seemed  to  be- 
come really  aware  of  Peggy  Pommeroy's 
existence. 

Now,  of  all  men  on  earth,  the  First  Com- 
edy Lady  most  admired  the  Tragic  Leading 
Gentleman.  Before  the  native  grandeur  of 
his  pale  brow  all  the  coronets  in  the  world 
were  lustreless  in  her  sight:  but  to  show 
him  with  what  high-placed  friends  she  could 
on  occasions  consort  —  that  was  truly  a  mo- 
ment worth  living  for ! 


[  xxiv  ] 


^  The  heart  OF   MANDEVILLE  ^ 

Mr.  Mortemar's  part  was  done  for  the 
night:  he  had  just  been  conclusively  stabbed, 
had  gulped  forth  his  last  blessing  and  his 
last  curse,  and  his  corpse  had  duly  been 
carried  away  by  lamenting  retainers.  He 
was  stalking  down  the  length  of  the  room, 
at  his  best  tragedy  manner,  when  the  arch 
cry  struck  his  ear.  He  started,  turned  ;  ele- 
vated one  eyebrow  to  anguish,  depressed  the 
other  to  menace.  His  hand  was  on  his  hip. 
—  If  anyone  could  have  thought  him  more 
noble  than  he  thought  himself,  it  was  Peggy 
Pommeroy.  —  Perceiving,  however,  the  iden- 
tity of  Miss  Pommeroy 's  admirer,  a  change 
came  over  him.  With  a  sleekins^  of  his 
whole  attitude,  he  bowed  profoundly  and 
approached. 

"  We  are  honoured  to  see  your  lordship 
among  us !  I  trust,  my  lord,  you  will  permit 
me  to  recall  myself  to  your  lordship's  recol- 
lection:—  I  had  the  honour  of  meeting  your 
lordship  at  the  Three  Tuns'' 

"  Had  you,"  said  his  lordship.  He  tilted 
his  head  further  back  on  the  sofa  cush- 
ions to  gaze  at  Mr.  Mortemar;  and  wished 
vaguely  that  "  the  mummer  would  stop 
smiling." 

The    tragedian's    fingers    trembled   round 

[  XXV  ] 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS 


his  snuff-box.  His  lordship's  affability  was 
great :  did  it  justify  the  happy  recipient  in 
offering  a  pinch  ? 

"  Your  lordship  has  seen  my  '  Altamont ' 
to-night?  Connoisseurs  are  kind  enough  to 
tell  me  that  they  prefer  it  to  Davy's.  But 
poor  little  Davy  —  "  he  paused.  Lord  Man- 
deville  was  yawning  outrageously. 

"  Oh  —  Davy  ..."  echoed  Miss  Pommeroy 
with  great  contempt,  running  a  fervid  glance 
over  Altamont's  fine  proportions. 

The  room  had  begun  to  fill  about  them  : 
the  Tragedy  was  over,  the  Farce  would  begin 
anon.  The  First  Villain  —  in  private  life  an 
irrepressibly  jovial  soul  —  clapped  his  late 
victim  brutally  on  the  back,  crying: 

"What  cheer,  my  buck!  Curse  me  if  ever 
we  did  the  business  finer  than  to-night ! " 

A  wan  smile  curled  Mr.  Mortemar's  lips  : 
"We  .  .  .!" 

Mrs.  Macnamara,  —  this  evening  "  Zcnobia, 
wife  of  the  Mountain  CJiief^'  in  brocade  and 
powder,  progressed  towards  the  centre  of  the 
room,  surrounded  by  "  Mountain  Maidens " 
in  tiffany  and  straw  hats.  She  was  thinking 
ardently  of  supper,  but,  at  sight  of  Peggy 
and  her  lounging  Lord,  halted  with  marked 
disapproval. 

[  xxvi  ] 


n  The  heart  OF   MANDEVILLE 


And  still  the  company  grew  larger,  be- 
tween the  two  plays.  Many  accepted  patrons 
strolled  in  from  the  side-boxes  —  Mr.  Stafford, 
fine,  bright  and  clean-cutting  as  his  own 
ready  sword,  doomed  (as  was  already  known 
behind  the  scenes)  to  approaching  matri- 
mony, but  taking  the  life  of  London  Town 
with  renewed  gallantry  for  his  last  fling. 
After  him,  Captain  Spicer,  that  noted  guide 
of  youth.  No  one  could  tolerate  the  crea- 
ture, yet  he  knew  everyone,  he  went  every- 
where. The  name  of  his  whilom  regiment 
was  a  mystery ;  but  there  was  little  mystery 
about  his  present  occupation.  He  had  a 
military  eye  for  a  country  recruit  —  a  cele- 
brated gift  for  drilling  the  bumpkin  in  the 
manoeuvres  of  the  world ;  and  if,  at  the  end 
of  a  campaign,  the  gallant  instructor's  pock- 
ets were  heavy  and  his  recruit's  correspond- 
ingly light,  why  it  showed  that  the  latter's 
education  was  complete. 

To-night,  Captain  Spicer's  oblique  vision 
shone  with  unusual  triumph  and  there  was 
a  glow  on  his  bloodless  cheek:  he  had  in 
tow  a  stout  young  gentleman  from  the  city 
of  Norwich,  whose  late  father  had  been  re- 
puted as  of  fabulous  wealth.     They  had  each 

[  xxvii  ] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


under  their  belts  perhaps  more  Burgundy 
than  could  be  carried  with  orrace. 

"Ah,  my  lord,"  cried  Stafford,  "the  even- 
ing to  you  ! "  His  eye  was  roving  round 
the  room  as  he  spoke.  —  "  I  vow,  Miss  Pom- 
meroy,  your  blue  eyes  are  more  prodigious 
large  than  ever  !  " 

"  They  need  be,"  retorted  the  girl  with  her 
impudent  ogle,  "  to  take  in  so  many  fine 
bucks  together."  Her  rolling  orbs  lingered 
on  Mortemar  —  But  he  was  adamant.  Then 
she  shot  a  sidelonsj  leer  towards  his  lord- 
ship,  to  see  if  he  were  any  way  stirred.  But 
still  his  lordship  sat  yawning,  the  image  of 
weariness. 

"  Will  Mr.  Stafford  have  a  pinch  ?  "  quoth 
Mortemar,  with  his  best  leg  and  his  super- 
lative flourish.  He  was  desperately  proud 
of  his  snuff-box  (which,  he  was  fond  of  hint- 
ing, was  a  tender  memento  from  an  enam- 
oured lady  of  quality).  With  the  tail  of  his 
eye  on  Mandeville,  he  began  to  work  up  to 
the  anecdote :  "  Do  I  see  you  notice  this 
little  trinket.-^  ...  A  curious  history,  sir — " 

"Gad,  Mr.  Mortemar  is  that  you  .f*  No 
snuff,  I  thank  you,  sir  —  'Tis  a  fad  of  mine, 
but,  to  my  thinking,  there  's  but  one  fashion 
of  enjoying  rapee." 

[  xxviii  ] 


IIThe  heart  of  mandeville 


"  And  what  is  that  ?  "  eagerly  asked  the 
young  gentleman  from  Norwicli.  Stafford 
wheeled,  and  measured  the  recruit  with  a 
haughty  eye. 

"  From  a  little  white  wrist,  my  good  fel- 
low," he  answered  at  length.  "  He  who  has 
thus  tasted  his  pinch "  he  broke  off. 

"  Put  a  pinch  on  my  wrist,"  Miss  Pom- 
meroy  was  crying  with  a  giggle ;  and,  her 
eyes  on  Stafford,  thrust  forth  that  plump 
member. 

"  Do,  Mr.  Mortemar,"  said  Stafford,  "and 
Captain  Spicer's  new  friend,  can  practise. 
But  recommend  him  to  shut  his  mouth." 

Then  he  turned  airily  to  Mrs.  Macnamara. 

"  My  dear  madam,"  said  he,  "  I  vow  I  have 
been  thrilled !  Zenobia  .  .  .  Zenobia  is  a 
magnificent  performance.  Zenobia,  with  her 
bevy  of  maidens  — "  He  swept  a  smiling 
glance  along  the  self  conscious  row:  black 
eyes,  grey  eyes,  sly  eyes,  innocent  eyes  gave 
him  back  his  handsome  look  with  interest. 
And  yet  his  gaze  wandered  like  that  of  one 
seekinor.  " 'T  was  a  si2:ht  to  make  an  old 
man  young,  and  —  " 

"  And  a  young  gentleman  ?  "  put  in  Mrs. 
Macnamara  with  a  jolly  fat  laugh  —  On  the 
boards  she  outdid  Mrs.  Siddons  ;  but  behind 

[  xxix  ] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


the  scenes  she  was  plain  Bridget  Macnamara, 
with  a  good-natured  heart,  an  easy  moraHty 
and  a  zest  for  meals. 

"  A  young  gentleman,  if  you  mean  me, 
ma'am,"  said  Tom  Stafford,  "  wished  he  had 
twenty  hearts  .  .  .  and  as  many  purses." 

"  Oh,  fie,  sir,  who  talks  of  purses  !  " 

"  Merely  as  a  means  of  expressing  the 
feeling  of  a  true  heart,  Ma'am," said  Stafford, 
with  his  most  engaging  smile.  "  But,  by- 
the-way,  do  I  not  miss  one  of  the  bewitching 
mountain  maidens  ?  " 

"Oh,  Mr.  Stafford,  sir  — "  she  menaced 
with  her  massive  fins^er. 

"  The  creature  with  the  voice,  Mrs.  Mac- 
namara." 

"  The  creature  with  the  voice — ?  Why  — 
he  means  my  new  pupil,  girls  !  "  said  Mrs. 
Macnamara  delighted.  The  days  were  long 
gone  by  when  the  light  in  a  young  man's 
eye  could  hold  any  personal  meaning  for 
her:  but  she  had  not  lost  her  sympathy 
with  love. 

A  shrug  and  a  look  of  scorn  now  passed 
among  the  listening  damsels,  as  you  may  see 
the  wind  ruffle  the  cornfields :  this  butterfly 
gentleman  in  silver  brocade  had  but  a  poor 
taste  after  all !     But    Mrs.   Macnamara  had 

[  XXX  ] 


The  heart  OF  MANDEVILLE 


caught  Miss  de  Vyne  by  the  arm,  and  whis- 
pered in  her  ear: 

"  The  child  has  never  had  one  bit  of  fun 
since  she  came  to  us.  Go  tell  her  that  I 
want  her.  Mind,  my  dear,  /  want  her.  Bid 
her  here  instantly."  She  nodded  and  smiled, 
as  the  messenger  whisked  away. 

"  You  'd  never  believe  it,  sir,  that  girl  — 
(oh  you  've  got  an  eye,  Mr.  Stafford,  you  've 
noticed  her  ! )  —  now  mark  my  words,  that 
girl  will  be  the  greatest  actress  on  the  stage 
one  of  these  fine  days,  or  my  name  is  not 
Bridget  Macnamara." 

"  Why,  the  thing  's  a  Quaker  !  "  cried  the 
pertest  of  maidens,  interrupting  her  con- 
versation with  the  young  gentleman  from 
Norwich  to  throw  the  denunciation  over  her 
shoulder. 

"A  Quaker !  "  echoed  Stafford,  more  in- 
terested  than  ever. 

"  Who  's  a  Quaker  ?  "  hiccouQrhed  the  younsf 
gentleman  from  Norwich.  "  Quakers  .  .  . 
ecod,  we  grow  'em  fine,  at  Norwich ! " 

"Do  Quakers  ever  kiss.'^"  inquired  Lord 
Mandeville,  raising  his  lazy  voice. 

"  Yes  —  on  the  sly,"  said  Peggy,  tartly. 

"  Neither  in  public,  nor  on  the  sly,  Miss 
Pommeroy,"  put  in  the  matron,  with  some 

[  xxxi  ] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


severity  —  (Peggy  was  not  of  her  favourites) 
— "  has  my  pupil  ever  known  any  such 
familiarities  —  poor  child!"  concluded  the 
lady,  half  to  herself,  with  a  sudden  relapse 
from  dignity. 

"  Pasitively  quite  a  phenamenan  ! "  lisped 
Captain  Spicer. 

"  I  declare,"  cried  a  gentleman  in  plum- 
colour —  "a  shocking  state  of  affairs!  — 
Where  is  the  young  lady,  that  this  omis- 
sion may  instantly  be  rectified  ?  "  And  he 
laughed  in  delight  at  his  own  wit. 

"  It  would  take  a  better  man  than  you. 
Sir  Thomas,  I  'm  thinking,"  said  Mrs.  Mac- 
namara  with  her  fat  laugh. 

"  By  gum,  is  it  a  wager  ?  "  cried  Captain 
Spicer's  recruit.  This  youth  was  beginning 
to  have  vague  glimmers  of  a  fast  gentleman's 
duties  in  London  Town.  "  Ecod,  if  it 's  for 
kissing:  a  Quaker,  I  'm  on  for  it  .  .  .  We 
know  how  to  deal  with  'em,  at  Norwich  ! " 
He  winked  offensively;  then,  of  a  sudden, 
kissed  the  nearest  maiden  with  a  smack,  and 
was  instantly  paid  back  by  a  swinging  box 
on  the  ear. 

"  Mr.  Staffard,  sir,"  cried  Captain  Spicer, 
"  are  you  for  a  wager  ?  "  (When  was  Tom 
Stafford  not  for  a  wager,  even  with  so  un- 

[  xxxii  ] 


The  heart  OF  MANDEVILLE 


congenial  a  taker  as  Captain  Spicer?  He 
would  almost  as  soon  have  refused  a  duel !) 
"  And  you,  my  Lard  ?  " 

^ "  If  any  one  is  wagering,  I  '11  wager,"  said 
his  lordship.  "  Perhaps  someone  will  kindly 
tell  me  what  it  is  about." 

•"Tis  who  shall  kiss  the  Quaker,"  said 
Captain  Spicer,  waggishly. 

"  Gentlemen,  gentlemen  !  "  clucked  Mrs. 
Macnamara  in  some  fluster. 

"Nay,"  said  Mr.  Stafford,  "the  bet,  as  I 
take  it,  is  won  by  him  whom  the  lady  her- 
self shall  choose  for  favour." 

"  Why,  certainly,"  said  Spicer,  with  one 
severe  orb  on  his  pupil.  "  I  trast  we  're 
all  gentlemen  here.  Shall  each  stake  ten 
guineas  ?" 

"  I  '11  have  no  tricks  played  with  my 
young  ladies,"  said  "  Zenobia." 

"  Tricks  !  "  exclaimed  Stafford.  "  My 
dearest  madam,  it  shall  be  a  fair  field  and 
no  favour  —  the  gentle  Beauty  shall  choose 
as  freely  as  young  Paris  himself  .  .  . 
amongst  us  divinities,  ha ! "  His  ironical 
eye  swept  from  the  insignificance  of  Sir 
Thomas  to  Lord  Mandeville's  pallid  indolent 
mask;  from  Spicer's  green  visage  to  the  red 
vacuity  of  the  young  gentleman  from  Nor- 

'^  [  xxxiii  ] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


wich.  And  he  had  an  agreeable  conscious- 
ness of  the  charming  figure  cut  by  one  Tom 
Stafford  among  these  assorted  rivals.  "  If 
kissing  goes  by  favour  .  .  ."  thought  he, 
and  smiled. 

"  Well,  well,"  said  the  placable  matron, 
"indeed,  I  'm  never  one  to  spoil  sport  —  and 
a  kiss  never  hurt  anybody,  to  my  thinking. 
But,  hush,  hush  !  "  she  warned,  finger  on  lip. 

A  tall,  slender  girl  came  quickly  in,  her 
draperies  fluttering.  She  had  evidently  been 
interrupted  in  her  disrobing,  for  her  soft 
brown  hair  had  been  almost  brushed  clear  of 
powder  and  was  coiled  in  a  careless  knot  at 
the  back  of  her  head.  The  paint  had  been 
washed  from  her  cheek.  —  A  very  windflower 
she  looked,  white  and  fragile  and  yet  with  a 
certain  woodland  strength  of  her  own,  amid 
these  high  coloured  stage-flowers.  She 
seemed  very  tall,  in  the  long  lines  of  her 
plain  stuff  dress ;  and  her  throat  merged 
like  a  flower-stem  from  the  violet  folds 
of  the  mantle  she  had  thrown  across  her 
shoulders. 

Lord  Mandeville  prodded  Miss  Pomme- 
roy,  and  then  pointed,  with  his  large  white 
forefinger: 

"  Who  is  that .?  "  he  said  suddenly. 

[  xxxiv  ] 


The  heart  OF   MANDEVILLE 


"That!"  echoed  Miss  Peggy,  with  huge 
scorn.  "  That,"  she  cried  with  her  coarse 
giggle,  "  why  that 's  the  Quaker  your  lordship 
has  wagered  to  kiss  !  " 

The  new  comer  looked  neither  to  the  right 
nor  to  the  left,  she  went  straight  to  Mrs. 
Macnamara. 

"  You  sent  for  me,  madam,"  said  she. 

Mr.  Stafford  had  been  right:  hers  was  a 
voice  indeed  —  low-pitched  and  tender-noted, 
it  seemed  to  murmur  to  the  heart  and  yet 
reached  in  distinctness  to  the  further  recesses 
of  the  room.  Such  a  voice  alone,  in  an 
actress,  is  genius. 

"  By  gum  ! "  suddenly  shouted  the  young 
gentleman  from  Norwich.  He  was  never 
overcome  by  shyness,  and  now,  with  a  stiff 
lining  of  Burgundy,  felt  himself  a  match  for 
any  fine  fellow  of  the  company.  He  elbowed 
his  way  between  a  Beau  in  puce  and  the  in- 
dignant Miss  de  Vyne.  "  By  gum  !"  he  cried 
and  slapped  his  thigh :  "  if  it 's  not  Rachel 
Peace ! " 

"  Rachel  Peace,"  said  Lord  Mandeville  to 
himself,  as  if  the  sound  liked  him. 

"  Captain  Spicer,"  cried  Stafford,  with 
sharpness,  "  keep  your  cub  in  order,  I  pray 
you ! 

[  XXXV  ] 


^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^^ 

The  blood  had  rushed  in  a  lovely  tide  to 
the  brow  of  Racliel  Peace ;  but  she  kept  her 
eyes  steadily  on  Mrs.  Macnamara  s  face  and 
stood,  wrapt  in  a  gentle  dignity  more  closely 
still  than  in  the  folds  of  her  violet  cloak. 

There  was  something  of  a  scufHe  between 
Captain  Spicer  and  his  young  friend,  which 
resulted  in  the  latter's  momentary  silence. 
But  his  mouth  was  already  open  for  the  pas- 
sage of  his  next  explosive  contribution  to  the 
dialogue. 

"  Rachel,  my  dear,"  said  the  good-natured 
Mrs.  Bridget,  "  I  '11  not  have  you  hiding  away 
in  this  fashion  when  there's  laughter,  and 
compliments,  and  all  the  things  young  people 
like,  waiting  for  you.  Here  is  a  friend  of 
mine  wants  to  be  introduced — " 

"  If  anything  could  make  me  prouder," 
interrupted  Stafford  in  his  pleasant  high-bred 
tones,  "  than  the  title  of  friend,  which  Mrs. 
Macnamara  so  obligingly  bestows  upon  me, 
it  would  be,  madam,"  he  bowed  deep  before 
the  girl,  "  to  have  the  honour  of  knowing  one 
whose  voice  —  too  seldom  lifted  to-night  — 
has  moved  this  heart  in  such  unwonted 
fashion." 

He  laid  his  hand  upon  his  fine  brocaded 
waistcoat.     The  girl's  glance  deepened   and 

[  xxxvi  ] 


The  heart  OF   MANDEVILLE 


kindled,  as  she  listened  to  him.  Her  sensi- 
tive face  quivered.  She  looked  from  him  to 
her  protectress  and  seemed  to  hesitate  be- 
tween a  guileless  pleasure  and  a  timid  dis- 
trust. Lord  Mandeville  suddenly  rose  from 
his  seat  beside  the  now  sulky  Peg  and  stood 
gazing  at  Miss  Peace  as  upon  something  un- 
known, undreamed  of:  his  heavy  lidded  eyes 
wide  open  at  last. 

"  Hark  to  him  ! "  Mrs.  Macnamara  laughed, 
pointing  at  Stafford.  "  He  'd  talk  the  birds 
off  the  trees!" 

"  Ah  !  "  cried  that  gentleman,  "  if  I  could 
but  talk  this  lady — and  yourself  —  to  my 
poor  table  to-night  .  .   .  !" 

"  Table  ?  "  quoth  she,  a  glitter  in  her  eye. 

"  A  trifle  of  supper,  with  my  unworthy  self 
as  host  —  ?  " 

"  Well,"  responded  Mrs.  Bridget  comfort- 
ably, "  I  'm  not  the  one  to  say  nay.  Supper 
is  always  a  good  thing.  We'll  come,  eh, 
Rachel  ?  " 

All  the  light  had  fled  from  the  girl's  face. 
She  shrank  back.  "  Indeed,  sir  ...  I  beg 
you,  madam,  let  me  retire.  I  cannot  sup 
with    this    gentleman." 

"  Hoity-toity!  "  cried  madam,  as  the  vision 
of  capon  and  Sillery  faded  from  her  mental 

[  xxxvii  ] 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS 


gaze.  'T  is  a  vast  pity,  my  dear,  that  you  will 
wear  these  airs !  Oh,  forget  that  you  were 
once  a  Friend,  Rachel  Peace,  and  for  Lord's 
sake  be  friendly ! " 

Once  more  the  girl  shifted  her  eyes  from 
Mrs.  Macnamara  to  Mr.  Stafford  and  then 
back  again.  Something,  perhaps,  in  the 
suppressed  eagerness  of  the  gentleman's 
watchful  look ;  something,  it  might  be,  of 
self-betrayal  in  the  dame's  greedy  lips  and 
her  meaning  glances,  seemed  to  strike  her 
with  horror:  she  stepped  back  as  if  a 
precipice  opened  at  her  feet. 

"  Indeed,"  she  said  quickly,  "  I  must  go 
home." 

Her  eyes  were  like  a  frightened  child's. 
Lord  Mandeville  caught  sight  of  them,  and 
suddenly  there  was  a  throbbing  within  his 
breast.  Now,  this  was  strange,  for  it  was  as 
well  known  to  himself  as  to  everyone  else, 
that  he  possessed  no  heart. 

Rachel  turned,  wrapping  her  mantle  about 
her;  blindly  she  was  seeking  an  escape, 
when,  at  a  whisper  from  Captain  Spicer,  the 
young  gentleman  from  Norwich  sprang 
forward    playfully    to    bar    her   way. 

"  Dost  thee  not  remember  me,  Friend  ?  " 
cried  he,  and  thrust  his  grinning  face  close  to 
hers.  [  xxxviii  ] 


The  heart  OF   MANDEVILLE 


She  looked  from  him  in  dissfust  and  her 
eye  then  fell  on  Sir  Thomas,  who,  at  the 
other  side  of  her,  had  advanced  with  skip  and 
jump  and  a  series  of  inane  bows.  He  had 
but  a  vapid  mind,  this  little  baronet,  a  poor 
taste  in  garments  and  a  feeble  command  of 
attitude ;  nevertheless,  he  had  been  born  a 
gentleman  —  with  another  bow,  he  fell  away 
forthwith. 

But  an  undaunted  spark  was  he  of  Nor- 
wich: 

"  Ecod  !  "  he  pursued,  in  light  and  elegant 
tones  of  banter.  "  Is  there  so  much  hurry, 
my  dear  ?  By  gum,  but  old  Master  Peace 
made  a  fine  to  do  after  you,  at  Norwich ! 
.  .  .  What  will  thee  give  me,"  he  cried, 
charmed  with  his  humour,  "  not  to  betray  the 
secret  ?  " 

Rachel's  face  was  white;  but,  with  a  sudden 
gathering  of  strength  and  dignity,  she  turned 
upon  him  in  grave  composure. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  she  said  —  and  her  wonder- 
ful voice  vibrated  through  the  room,  "  but  I 
have  no  speech  to  hold  with  thee,  Friend. 
There  is  no  secret  for  thee  to  keep  and  there- 
fore naught  thou  canst  do  for  me.  Nor  is 
there  aus^ht  I  can  offer  thee." 

Her  answer  in  that  same  Quaker  phraseol- 

[  xxxix  ] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


ogy,  with  which  she  had  been  thus  insolently 
baited,  her  delicate  serious  air,  held  strange 
rebuke  for  one  who  could  feel  it.  Mr. 
Stafford  lifted  the  single  eye-glass  that  hung 
from  a  ribbon  round  his  neck,  to  look  at  her 
with  ever  deepening  interest.  Lord  Mande- 
ville  came  a  pace  nearer.  The  young  gentle- 
man from  Norwich  thought  the  little  silence 
that  had  fallen  on  the  room  could  betoken 
nothing  but  a  flattering  attention  centred  on 
his  next  move.  He  caught  Rachel  by  the 
elbow. 

"  What,"  he  cried,  "naught.?  Naught  for 
me?  Shall  I  not  have  the  Kiss  of  Peace.'*  " 
He  paused  to  look  round  for  admiration. 

"Captain  Spicer,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Stafford 
with  an  air  of  nausea,  "that  animal  of  yours 
is  not  fit  to  be  let  loose ! " 

Rachel  stood  like  a  statue.  Peg  Pomme- 
roy  had  clapped  her  hands  with  a  loud  laugh, 
echoed  by  some  of  the  other  girls  from  the 
different  corners  whither,  with  their  admirers, 
they  had  retreated.  Stimulated  by  the  sound 
of  this  applause  Captain  Spicer's  pupil 
lurched  forward  towards  the  Quaker's  dis- 
dainful face. 

"Unhand  her,  sir!"  deeply  ordered  Mrs. 
Macnamara. 

[xl] 


The  heart  OF  MANDEVILLE 


Lord  Mandeville  had  taken  two  long  steps. 
Without  a  word  he  extended  his  arm.  His 
great  white  hand  closed  upon  the  nape  of  the 
youth's  neck ;  it  was  a  fine  grip.  The  youth's 
wig  yawned  over  his  cropped  head.  "  Ow!  " 
he  cried,  and  this  was  all  he  had  breath  to 
cry:  he  was  swung  violentl}^  backwards, 
shaken  like  a  rat  in  the  jaws  of  a  terrier,  and 
then  released  with  a  twist  that  sent  him 
plunging  into  Captain  Spicer's  lean  waist- 
coat. 

The  gentlemen  of  the  Little  Theatre  were 
prodigiously  impressed  by  my  lord's  neatness 
of  action.  The  ladies  screeched,  or  tittered, 
according  to  their  disposition.  Lord  Mande- 
ville and  Rachel  Peace  looked  upon  each 
other's  faces  and  minded  no  other  in  the 
room. 

"  Madam,"  he  said,  bowing  before  her  with 
a  profounder  respect  than  he  had  ever  shown 
a  duchess,  "you  wish  to  retire:  my  coach  is 
at  the  door  — "  Her  grave  and  searching  eye 
darkened  with  a  deep  reproach.  "Madam," 
he  went  on  earnestly,  as  he  read  her  thought, 
"  I  shall  be  honoured  if  you  condescend  to 
make  use  of  it  and  my  horses  and  servants. — 
I  purpose  to  return  on  foot." 

Mr.    Stafford    stood    watching    with    that 

[xli] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


smile  of  his  that  was  at  once  so  genial  and  so 
cynical.  He  saw  her,  after  this  single  hesi- 
tation, lay  her  slender  hand  in  acquiescence 
upon  Lord  Mandeville's  wrist.  "  God  help 
the  girl ! "  thought  he.  "  She  s  fled  from  the 
arms  of  the  bear  cub  into  the  lion's  jaw. 
Gad !  I  've  never  seen  Mandeville  so  taken. 
'Tis  a  pale  child,  when  all's  said  and  done 
.  .  .  but,  stab  me,  how  she  moves!  "  His  ex- 
perienced eye  kindled  as  he  marked  the  inim- 


itable grace  with  which  this  unknown  actress 
paused,  to  curtsey  before  Mrs.  Macnamara, 
and  then  passed  on,  still  led  by  Lord  Mande- 
ville, towards  the  door. 

Here,  however,  they  were  arrested  by  a 
roar  —  the  young  gentleman  from  Norwich 
had  recovered  from  his  sudden  giddiness  and 
found  his  breath  once  more. 

"  Ecod ! "  he  was  crying ;  "  I  will  have 
blood  for  this  !  " 

His  stout  red  face  looked  so  exceeding 
comic  without  the  shade  of  his  wig  that 
Stafford  was  seized  with  laughter.  But 
Captain  Spicer,  whose  usually  astute  intellect 
had  been  to-night  somewhat  troubled  by  the 
fumes  of  the  bottle,  now  grasped  the  situation 
with  a  return  of  sobered  wits.  A  quarrel 
with  Lord  Mandeville!     His  fool  of  a  recruit 

[  -^lii  ] 


^  The  heart  OF  MANDEVILLE  ^ 

could  come  but  poorly  out  of  any  such  pass, 
and  the  gallant  Captain's  deeply  interested 
exchequer  could  allow  of  no  such  risk. 

"  Blood?"  he  echoed  shrilly.  "No,  sir,  no 
blood  here,  but  marrow-bones  !  "  He  caught 
the  youth  sharply  by  the  shoulder  :  "  Are  you 
mad.-^"  he  hissed  in  his  ear.  "Don't  you 
know  who  't  is  you  're  talking  to?  'T  is  the 
famous  Lard  Mandeville,  you  booby.  You 
must  apalagize." 

"  Apologise  ..."  cried  the  unhappy 
young  gentleman.     "  I  ?    Apologise.  .  .  ?  " 

"  He  's  had  too  mach  wine,  my  lard.  Why, 
what  a  sight  the  fallow  is  !  —  Where 's  your 
wig,  sir.  You  are  making  a  laughing-stack 
of  yourself  —  and  of  me !  " 

Here  the  irate  Captain  plucked  the  wig 
from  one  of  the  actors,  who  was  convulsing 
Miss  Peggy  by  some  merry  antic  with  the 
same.  He  clapped  it  fiercely  on  his  pupil's 
poll;  with  so  much  disregard  to  symmetry, 
however,  that  the  cue  came  to  the  front  and 
effectively  choked  further  protest. 

Rachel's  lips  broke  into  a  delicious  smile. 
Mandeville,  who  could  not  move  his  eyes 
from  her  face,  even  for  one  contemptuous 
glance  towards  his  victim  —  although  he  had 
halted  to  hear  what  this  latter  might  have  to 

[  xliii  ] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


say  in  the  way  of  further  challenge  —  pro- 
ceeded again  unmoved  towards  the  door. 
He  had  once  more  ceremoniously  taken  the 
Quakers  hand.  As  the  panels  closed  upon 
them,  Stafford  fell  likewise  into  sudden 
gravity  upon  the  memory  of  Rachel's  smile. 
"  By  heaven,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  Mande- 
ville  is  a  connoisseur:  the  creature  is 
exquisite ! " 

"  So,  gentlemen,"  said  he  aloud,  cheerfully, 
as  he  turned  once  more  to  the  company, 
"  we  have  lost  the  wager." 

"You,  at  least,  rtiade  but  a  poor  race  for  it, 
Mr.  Stafford,"  said  hungry  Mrs.  Macnamara 
in  dudgeon.  Then:  "And  you,  girls,"  she 
cried  with  asperity,  "  shame  on  you  to  be 
loitering  like  this !  Some  of  you  will  be 
called  in  a  minute.  Miss  Pommeroy,  you're 
for  the  curtain,  if  you  please." 

Captain  Spicer  and  his  recruit  from  Nor- 
wich were  wrangling  in  a  corner.  And, 
presently,  the  young  gentleman  was  observed 
to  shed  tears  :  Spicer  had  actually  threatened 
to  abandon  him. 

"  What  would  become  of  you,  if  I  did  not 
keep  my  eyes  on  you  ! "  rated  the  Captain. 

"  Captain  Spicer's  eyes  are  more  useful 
than    most   people's,"   said   Stafford,    sooth- 

[  xliv  ] 


^  The  heart   OF  MANDEVILLE  ^^ 

ingly:  "he  can  see  both  sides  of  things  at 
once.     And  'tis  a  prodigious  advantage,  sir." 


The  slope  of  the  Hayrnarket  was  being 
scoured  by  the  rain  of  a  September  tempest. 
The  gutters  were  rushing  streams,  the  black 
roofs  dripping.  Foul  old  London  was  pure 
for  an  hour;  the  moist  air  vivifying.  Rachel, 
on  Lord  Mandeville's  arm,  halted  involun- 
tarily under  the  porch, 

"  Oh,"  she  cried,  "  how  fresh,  how  clean, 
after  that  scent,  that  heat  of  the  green- 
room !  .  .  .  Oh,"  she  added,  breathing  deep, 
"  if  it  were  not  for  my  art !  "  The  exclama- 
tion seemed  to  have  escaped  her.  Quickly 
she  recollected  herself  and  turned  to  him. 
"  Nay,"  she  said  now,  "it  is  raining  still.  I 
pray  you,  call  me  a  sedan  and  keep  your 
coach,  sir." 

And,  for  the  first  time  that  evening.  Lord 
Mandeville  in  his  turn  smiled. 

"  A  little  rain  will  not  hurt  me,"  he  said 
gently.  "  Nay,  nay,  't  is  I  pray  you.  My 
running  footman  shall  escort  you — you  shall 
tell  him  yourself  where  you  wish  to  be  driven. 
I  do  prefer  to  walk." 

If  she   had   a  lingering  doubt   of  him,  it 

[xlv] 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS 


then  vanished.  She  stepped  into  his  coach, 
the  Quaker  girl,  as  the  Queen  into  her  state 
carriage.  And  it  pleased  him  to  bend  before 
her,  as  before  majesty  itself.  ]3ut  he  paused 
at  the  coach  window,  looking  in  upon  her 
lingeringly,  and  could  not  bring  himself  to 
g-'ive  the  si2:nal  for  drivingr  on.  The  li2:ht 
from  the  footman's  link  and  the  lamps  of 
the  portal  fell  full  upon  her  face.  —  He 
thought  his  eyes  had  never  beheld  anything 
so  fair. 

"  How  come  you,"  he  said  after  a  while, 
"  how  come  you,  Rachel  Peace,  on  the 
boards  of  a  Play-House.?" 

The  soft  eyes,  fixed  upon  his,  shone  as 
through  a  mist  of  tears  they  would  not  shed. 
Her  lips  quivered.  He  tightened  his  hand 
upon  the  ledge  of  the  coach  window  to  keep 
back  the  mad  impulse  of  seizing  her  to  his 
breast. 

"  Oh,  I  have  done  wrong,  I  know%"  she 
said.  "  I  fear  I  have  broken  my  father's 
heart.  But  I  cannot  go  back — I  cannot!" 
A  sudden  passion  shook  her;  she  wrung  her 
slender  hands.  "Sir,"  she  cried,  "  I  have  no 
mother  ...  I  cannot  think  that  God  meant 
that  we  should  live  such  lives  —  God  who 
made  all   the  things   beautiful   and   crave  us 

[  xlvi  ] 


^The  heart  of  MANDEVILLE  r^ 

eyes  to  see,  lips  for  laughter.  Oh,  you  in 
the  world,  who  see  in  the  odd  ways  of 
Quakers  nothing  but  food  for  jest  .  .  . 
could  you  but  know  the  long  tragedy  of  a 
Quaker  home  to  the  young  soul, —  I  believe 
it  might  rather  draw  your  tears !  " 

Lord  Mandeville,  though  he  had  a  sense 
of  humour  of  his  own,  found  nothing  comic 
that  he,  of  all  men,  should  be  selected  for 
this  confidence.  .And  truly  there  must  have 
been,  even  in  his  silence,  some  strange  quality 
of  sympathy;  for,  after  a  pause,  the  girl,  with 
the  thrill  of  unshed  tears  in  her  golden  voice, 
went  on  : 

"  But,  I  could  have  borne  it.  My  father 
is  a  just  man  ;  and,  though  mere  justice  is 
cold  comfort,  I  could  have  borne  to  bide 
with  him  —  had  he  been  content  that  I 
should  do  so." 

She  shuddered  and  fell  silent. 

"  He  wanted  to  wed  you,  against  your 
will,"  said  Mandeville,  by  some  quick  intui- 
tion of  an  indignant  mind  leaping  at  her 
story. 

"  Oh,"  she  answered  quickly,  "  it  was  to 
a  worthy  man  —  a  Friend  of  great  stand- 
ing among  us,  of  many  virtues.  My  father 
meant    well,    doubtless.     But    I  —  it    would 

[  xlvii  ] 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS 


have  been  a  crime !  Sir,  I  was  forced  to 
break  the  Commandment  and  disobey  my 
father,  for  I  carry  in  my  heart  another  Com- 
mandment, and  it  I  could  not  violate." 

The  passion  had  come  back  upon  her. 
Her  velvet  eye  flashed,  and  the  gathering- 
tears  suddenly  fell  and  rolled  down  her 
cheeks.  Mandeville  leaned  in,  and  whis- 
pered : 

"  You  could  not  wed  where  you  did  not 
love  ? " 

"  Verily,  I  would  rather  die." 

"  And,  verily,  it  is  well  said,"  he  answered. 
And  there  was  no  mockery,  but  a  deep 
earnestness,  in  his  echo  of  her  asseveration. 
"  And  so,"  he  added,  after  a  pause,  "  poor 
Quaker  dove,  your  white  wings  have  taken 
you  among  all  these  painted  birds,  these  jays 
and  peacocks  —  these  Pommeroys,  these  de 
Vynes  and  Mortemars  "  —  Once  again  there 
came  a  silence  between  them.  Then,  glanc- 
ing down,  he  said  suddenly  and  with  a 
change  of  tone:  "'Twas  the  easiest  flight, 
perhaps,  and  doubtless " 

"  Nay,  nay,"  she  interposed,  "  do  not  so 
mistake  me.  I  would  hold  it  shame,  now, 
having  taken  my  life  into  my  own  hands, 
did   I  not  employ  it,  for  I   believe   Heaven 

[  xlviii  ] 


The  heart  OF   MANDEVILLE 


meant  me  so  to  do.  —  Sir,  I  know  I  have 
my  talent,  and  I  will  not  bury  it :  now 
that  I  am  free  I  would  use  it.  Mrs.  Mac- 
namara  has  been  kind  to  me  ...  in  her 
way.  ...  I  knew  her  daughter  at  home. 
I    am  already   earning  a   small    salary,   and 

she "     Rachel  hesitated  a  moment  and 

an  arch  smile  crept  on  her  lip,  "  she  in- 
structs me." 

"  She !  "  said  Mandeville,  with  his  short 
loud  laugh.  Once  more  he  gazed  deeply  on 
the  girl  in  his  coach ;  but,  this  time,  it  was 
with  a  new  point  of  view.  Every  inflection 
of  her  voice,  from  passion  to  pathos,  from 
earnestness  to  delicate  mirth,  lingered  in  his 
ear  like  to  the  strains  of  music.  He  remem- 
bered her  rare  gesture,  the  grace  of  her 
every  movement.  Beneath  his  gaze,  even 
now  as  she  sat  silent,  watching  him,  the 
shadows  of  her  thoughts  were  passing  upon 
her  countenance  as  the  clouds  over  a  clear 
lake — - —  Ranting,  strutting  old  Macnamara, 
teach  her  !  "  'T  is  you,"  he  cried  suddenly, 
"  shall  teach  the  world  !  " 

As  he  spoke,  he  meant  a  lordly  promise. 

The  Earl  of  Mandeville  had  powerful  interest 

in  most  worlds  .  .  .  But  she  caught  his  words 

only   as    an    encouragement    to    the    artist; 

d  [  xlix  ] 


^INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS^ 

and  such  a  beautiful  gratitude  leaped  to  her 
face  that  he  bit  his  tongue  over  the  coarse 
proffer  of  patronage  which  would  have  spoilt 
all. 

"  Oh,  sir,  if  you  think  something  of  my 
gifts,  then  shall  I  hope.  But,  indeed,  I  had 
but  a  poor  part  to-night  — " 

She  had  had  a  part  —  and  he  had  not 
seen  her!  He  had  sat  by  Miss  Peggy 
Pommeroy,  all  that  precious  time,  won- 
derins:  that  life  could  hold  so  much  tedium. 
Had  there  ever  been  such  a  waste  of  an 
evening! 

As  he  leaned  into  the  coach  the  rain 
pattered  on  his  back,  hissed  into  the  torches 
of  the  linkmen,  striped  in  long  slants  and 
snake-lines  the  farther  windows  of  the  coach. 
P^rom  gutter  and  cobble-stone,  roof  and  pave- 
ment, ranq;  out  the  sons:  of  the  rain.  Ever 
and  anon  would  come  a  flying  gust  and  all 
the  lights  of  torch  and  lantern  would  bend, 
burn  blue  and  madly  dance.  Lord  Man- 
deville's  horses  stamped  and  shivered  and 
shook  the  harness.  But  his  lordship  him- 
self had  no  thoucrht  but  to  marvel  on  the 
snowdrop  beauty  of  the  face  of  Rachel  Peace 
when  the  lights  and  shadows  played  on  it. 
All   at  once   his    silence  and   his    brooding 


t» 


The  heart  OF   MANDEVILLE 


eye  seemed  to  frighten  her  —  she  drew 
back,  with  a  look  that  woke  him  too  from 
his  dream.  He  instantly  moved  from  the 
window. 

"  You  would  go  home,"  he  said,  formally. 
"  Madam,   I  wish  you  good-night." 

At  this,  in  her  woman's  way,  her  heart 
seemed  to  smite  her  that,  by  unworthy  appre- 
hension, she  had  wronged  one  so  generously 
courteous. 

"  Nay,"  said  she,  eagerly  arresting  him, 
"  one  word  more.  —  Friend,  may  I  not 
know  by  what  name  to  remember  thee  ?  " 
Then,  she  blushed  and  begged  him  excuse 
her  for  that,  in  spite  of  all  her  self-school- 
ing, the  old  language  still  came  easiest  to 
her  tongue. 

He  broke  in  abruptly,  vowing  it  was  the 
sweetest  he  had  ever  heard  ;  then  interrupted 
himself,  afraid  of  his  own  vehemence.  Here 
was  a  flower  that  scarce  could  withstand  a 
touch:  he  caught  back  at  his  highest  air  of 
ceremony. 

"  Madam,  I  have  to  crave  your  pardon.  I 
am  remiss  indeed  not  to  have  introduced 
myself.  My  name  is  Mandeville."  He  drew 
himself  up  and  bowed ;  then,  looking  at  her, 
saw,  half  piqued  and  half  amused,  that  the 

[li] 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS 


name  of  which  Ens^land  thought  so  much 
had  no  meaning  in  her  ear.  "  I  am/'  he 
went  on,  with  a  sort  of  awkwardness,  yet 
proudly  too,  ''  Lionel  Hill-Dare,  Earl  of 
Mandeville."  And  he  added  with  emphasis : 
"  at  your  service." 

"  My  lord,  I  did  not  need  the  sound  of 
your  name  nor  the  sight  of  the  coronet 
on  your  coach,  to  tell  me  that  you  are 
great  and  noble.  Amongst  us,  Friends, 
the  outward  show  is  little,  but  the  deeds  of 
the  generous  heart  are  much  .  .  .  Good- 
night, my  lord." 

Her  white  lingers  now  clasped  the  window- 
frame  where  his  own  had  rested.  He  ex- 
tended his  hand. 

"  Will  you  then  not  say  :  '  Good-night 
.  .  .   Friend?'" 

At  this  she  smiled,  that  smile  of  exquisite 
archness  that  had  already  bereft  him  of  his 
senses. 

"  Good-night,  Friend,  and  thank  thee  !  " 
said  she,  and  laid  her  slim  cool  hand  in 
his. 

He  stooped  and  kissed  it. 


As  he  stood,  his  back  against  the  grimy 

[  lii  ] 


The  heart  OF  MANDEVILLE  ^ 


pillars  of  the  Theatre  porch,  and  watched  his 
coach  clattering  up  the  Haymarket,  the  red 
torch  leaping  as  the  footman  ran  beside  it, 
all  through  the  downpour,  his  whole  being 
was  aglow.  —  Lord  Mandeville  the  rozie  had 
found  something  in  himself  he  had  not 
known  he  possessed ;  and,  as  his  coach 
rounded  the  corner  and  was  lost  to  his  sight 
this  thing  that  he  had  discovered,  behold ! 
't  was  gone  from  him.  She  was  carrying  it 
away  with  her.  He  had  given  it  —  nay,  had 
flung  it  into  her  pretty  hands,  this  hitherto 
unknown  possession  of  Lord  Mandeville  — 
his  heart. 

When  Mr.  Stafford  emerged  from  the 
Theatre,  he  absolutely  started  to  see  the 
motionless  figure  leaning  against  the  pillar. 
For  once,  his  knowledge  of  the  world  was  at 
fault ;  for  once,  events  had  prepared  for  him 
a  genuine  surprise.  A  sharp  exclamation 
escaped  him. 

Lord  Mandeville  turned  his  dreaming  eyes, 
saw  the  amazed  countenance  and  read  the 
thought  behind  it. 

"  Sir,"  said  he,  and  took  his  hat  from  his 
head  with  a  certain  orrandeur  of  oresture  that 
he  could  assume  at  times,  "  I  beg  to  inform 

[  "ii  ] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


you,  and  kindly  yourself  pass  the  news  to 
your  companions,  that  I  have  not  won  the 
washer." 

He  turned,  replaced  his  hat,  and,  pensively, 
walked  away  in  the  rain. 


[liv] 


HEN  Mistress  Bellairs,  the  toast 
of  Bath  "  for  wit  and  beauty  "  — 
and  one  of  the  richest  matches 
in  the  kingdom  besides  —  con- 
sented to  marry  Mr.  Stafford,  it  was  a  nine 
days'  wonder.  True,  he  was  a  prodigious 
buck  and  her  name  had  been  connected 
with  that  of  many  a  less  eHgible  suitor. 
Nevertheless,  "  Why  does  she  do  it  ?  "  was 
the  question  on  every  lip. 

And,  indeed,  it  was  the  question  that  the 
pretty  little  widow  was  asking  herself  as  she 
sat  warming  her  slippered  foot  before  a  cosy 
wood  fire  on  the  eve  of  her  wedding  day. 
The  reason  she  had  given  to  the  world  at 
large,  "that  it  had  become  absolutely  neces- 
sary for  her  to  have  a  protector,"  had  taken 
in  nobody  —  least  of  all  herself. 

[■] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


Kitty  Bellairs  was  right  well  capable  of 
taking  care  of  herself  and,  moreover,  enjoyed 
the  process.  The  reason  she  had  given  to 
Miss  Lydia,  her  tire-woman  (a  personage,  by 
the  way,  who  highly  disapproved  of  the  in- 
tended alliance)  had  been  received  by  that 
respectfully  irate  damsel  with  a  sniff  that 
spoke  volumes  of  scepticism. 

"The  poor  fellow,  Lydia!  He  is  so  des- 
perately enamoured  :  I  had  not  the  heart 
to  say  him   nay." 

"Yes,  ma'am.  There's  others  besides 
yourself  have  always  told  me  he  was  a 
feeling   gentleman." 

Mistress  Bellairs  averted  her  head  from 
the  challenging  flame  of  Lydia's  eye.  She 
knew  all  about  the  little  French  milliner  in 
Quiet  Street;  she  did  not  choose  to  have 
the  story  again.  And  now,  surveying  in  a 
melancholy  manner  the  toes  of  her  small 
pointed  shoes  in  the  flickering  firelight,  with 
the  dusk  of  the  October  evening  pressing 
close  round  her,  she  could  find  no  excuse 
for  her  own  folly. 

Upon  one  side  or  the  other  she  could 
scarce  plead  entraincment.  She  had  been 
flattered  by  Mr.  Stafford's  persistent  besieg- 
ing, and  yet  piqued  by  feeling  how  little  real 

[2] 


^  The  bridegroom    REJECT  ^1 

passion  she  had  been  able  to  inspire.  The 
moment  when,  in  due  form,  he  had  laid  his 
hand  and  heart  at  her  feet  had  been  one 
of  rosy  triumph :  from  Lydia  upwards,  how 
many  a  female  well-wisher  had  dinned  into 
her  ear  that  Stafford  had  no  serious  inten- 
tions!  She  had  cut  out  the  little  milliner 
in  Quiet  Street.  And  yet  —  was  it  possible 
that  Kitty  Bellairs  was  giving  up  liberty, 
money,  and  something  finer  and  closer,  for 
such  an  advantage } 

Her  friends  had  freely  prophesied  that  it 
would  be  with  this  engagement  of  hers  as 
with  one  or  two  others  ;  those  with  my  Lord 
Verney  and  Mr.  Denis  O'Hara  (Lord  Kil- 
croney's  only  son)  for  instance;  and  bets 
circulated  freely  in  Pump  and  Assembly 
rooms  upon  Mr.  Stafford's  chances  of  being 
jilted  like  his  predecessors.  But  "  Beau 
Stafford,"  despite  the  most  genial  laugh  in 
the  whole  of  the  west  country,  had  (or  so 
Mistress  Kitty  fancied)  a  cold  eye.  She 
shuddered  a  little  as  she  thought  upon  it 
now.     Yes,  she  was  almost  afraid  of  him ! 

•  ••••••• 

Someone  came  stumbling  into  the  room 
and  fell  on  the  floor  at  her  feet.  Her  hand 
was  seized  and  mumbled  over  with    kisses, 

[3] 


^INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS^ 

and  the  firegleams  danced  on  a  red  curly 
head,  insufficiently  powdered. 

Kitty  smiled  and  her  black  eye  softened. 
This  Denis  O'Hara,  this  impoverished  mad- 
cap Irishman  —  with  him  she  had  once  been 
as  near  marriage  as  now  with  Mr.  Stafford ! 
And  if  an  ingrained  prudence  had  made  her, 
at  the  eleventh  hour,  prorogue  the  ceremony 
sine  die,  she  had  nevertheless  beheld  its  ap- 
proach with  little  of  that  dismay  which  now 
filled  her  soul. 

"  Kitty,  you  've  broken  my  heart  on  me ! 
Kitty,  Kitty,  I  never  thought  you'd  let  it  go 
so  far.  Is  there  no  hope  at  all,  asthorcf*  Is 
it  bent  you  are  on  going  to  the  bitter  end } 
Sure,  then,  I  don't  care  what  becomes  of  me, 
and  the  sheriff's  officers  that  are  after  me 
this  minute  may  have  me  at  long  last,  and 
devil  mend  them  !  " 

Unfortunate  Denis  !  But  for  that  last  de- 
spairing admission,  who  knows  into  what 
rashness  Kitty  might  not  have  been  tempted, 
in  this  twilight  mood  1  But  the  sheriff's 
officers  —  cela  donnait  fzirieusement  apenser  ! 
She  let  her  little  taper  fingers  rest  for  a 
second  caressingly  within  his. 

"  Don't  be  so  foolish,"  she  said.  Though 
her    voice    was    tender,    in    her    heart    she 

[4] 


^  The  bridegroom    REJECT  ^ 

thought  —  "  What  a  pity  he  should  be 
so  impossible  —  a  scattercash,  a  money 
sieve ! " 

"  Foolish ! "  exclaimed  the  lover  with  a 
break  in  his  voice.  "  Say  mad,  and  you  '11 
be  nearer  the  mark."  Then  he  cast  him- 
self flat  on  the  hearthrug  and  shed  such 
heart-broken  tears  that  Kitty's  own  eyes 
caught  the  infection.  And  he,  rising  to  his 
knees,  on  a  sudden,  saw  the  pearly  drops 
upon  her  cheek.  Very  little  pearls  they 
were — quite  seed  pearls,  if  the  truth  must 
be  told  —  but  so  precious  in  her  lover's 
estimation  that  he  had  to  gather  them  with 
reverence  and  wonder  upon  his  lips. 

"  Don't  cry,  Kitty,  dear !  "  said  he,  forget- 
ting his  huse  sorrow  at  the  sight  of  her  but- 
terfly  grief.  "  Sure,  I  'm  not  worth  it !  I  was 
not  fit  to  be  your  husband,  my  darling,  though 
it 's  the  love  of  the  world  I  'd  have  given  you. 
Ned  Stafford's  a  good  fellow  —  blast  him! 
—  and  it 's  careful  he  '11  be  with  your  money 
on  you." 

Kitty  gave  a  tiny  sob.  It  was  very,  very 
hard  on  poor  Denis:  there  was  perhaps  no 
one  that  was  better  able  to  judge  of  the  mag- 
nitude of  his  loss  than  she  herself.  The 
sound    of   that  sob  drove  a  wave  of   blood 

[5] 


^:iNCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS^ 

to  O'Haras  giddy  head.  Pie  clasped  her 
fiercely  to  his  breast. 

"  Ah,  but  by  the  Lord,  we  were  near  it 
once  !     Ah,  Kitty,  why,  in  God's  name " 

He  finished  his  sentence  with  his  lips 
upon  hers.  Kitty's  heart  beat  quick  as  a 
fluttering  bird ;  an  agitation  overpowering, 
yet  not  unpleasant,  seized  hold  of  her.  Even 
now,  if  only 

But,  as  abruptly  as  he  had  seized  her, 
the  impulsive  Irishman  loosened  his  grasp, 
sprang  to  his  feet  and  dashed  to  the  door: 

"  The  night  of  your  wedding  will  be  Denis 
O'Hara's  last  day  upon  earth." 

"  Fudge !  "  cried  Kitty,  in  a  sudden  fit  of 
exasperation. 

Denis  flung  himself  out  of  the  room. 
With  the  touch  of  those  soft  lips  flaming 
into  his  soul  he  did  not  dare  trust  himself 
another  instant  in  her  presence ;  believed, 
indeed,  that  he  had  already  sinned  beyond 
forgiveness.  When  will  a  man,  even  the 
most  practised  in  the  science  of  love,  ever 
really  learn  how  to  deal  with  a  woman's 
heart  ? 

"  Fool !  "  said  Mistress  Bellairs  to  her- 
self as  the  sound  of  his  retreating  steps 
died  away  in  the  passage.     "  I  vow  I  shall 

[6] 


^  The  bridegroom    REJECT  ^ 

go   on   with   it   now  .   .  .  and  'tis   his   own 
fault ! " 

•  •  •«•••  • 

Mr.  O'Hara  rushed  bHndly  into  the  vesti- 
bule and  into  the  arms  of  Miss  Lydia  who 
had  but  just  turned  away  from  closing  the 
hall  door.  She  caught  him  by  the  wrists 
with  small  bony  hands. 

"  For  your  life,  sir,"  said  she  in  an  impor- 
tant whisper,  "  you  must  not  leave  the 
house  !  "  Drunk  with  his  despair  he  stared 
at  her.  "  They  ve  seen  you  go  in,"  she 
went  on.  "  F'ront  and  back  doors  are 
watched." 

"Oh,  that!"  said  Denis  O'Hara,  and 
tossed  his  head.  "  Sure,  what  do  I  care  ? 
Ah,  my  little  Lydia,  it  s  to  be  married  to- 
morrow she  is,  and  I  '11  not  survive  it ! 
And  what  odds  is  it  to  me  once  I  'm 
dead  and  done  with  it,  if  I  'm  in  quod  in 
the  morninof?  " 

"  She 's  not  married  yet,"  suggested  the 
maid. 

Again  O'Hara  stared  at  her;  then  his 
whole  countenance  became  irradiated. 

"Why,  Lydia!" 

She  put  her  finger  to  her  lip,  looked  round 
cautiously,  and  whispered  in  his  ear: 

[7] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


"  Come  with  me." 

Like  a  lamb  (as  he  said  when  subse- 
quently describing  the  scene)  the  Hon. 
Denis  O'Hara  suffered  himself  to  be  led 
to  Miss  Lydia's  own  virginal  bower.  She 
locked  the  door,  and  they  were  alone.  A 
compromising  situation !  But  (as  Denis 
said)  nothing  could  have  been  more  virtuous, 
at  that  moment,  than  the  pair  of  them. 

"  Oh,  alanna!  "  said  he,  catching  her  trim 
waist,  "  if  you  've  put  a  spoke  in  the  wheels 
of  that  most  ill-considered  alliance,  it's  more 
than  my  life  I  '11  owe  you.  What  have  you 
got  to  tell  me,  darling.'^  "  he  went  on  eagerly. 
"  It's  broken  off  already,  maybe.''  And  the 
little  devil  —  God  bless  her!  —  only  playing 
with  my  poor  heart,  as  usual?  Or"  —  for 
Lydia  had  shaken  her  head  —  "  will  she  do 
it  to-night,  or  will  she  fail  him  at  the  church 
door.?" 

"  None  of  these  things,  as  far  as  I  know, 
are  likely  to  occur  this  time." 

"  What,  then,  in  the  name  of  wonder  ?  " 

"I  place  my  trust  in  Providence,"  said 
Miss  Lydia,  piously  casting  up  her  eyes. 

"  Ah,  it 's  a  fool  you  're  making  of  me !  " 
cried  Mr.  O'Hara  in  an  angry  voice,  as  he 
turned  away  in  disappointment. 

[8] 


The  bridegroom    REJECT 


"  I  should  n't  like  to  speak  ill  of  the  dead," 
retorted  Lydia  acidly;  "and,  indeed,  if  all 
your  man  says  is  true,  your  late  respected 
mother  was  a  very  elegant  lady  —  but  if 
you've  been  made  a  fool,  Mr.  O'Hara,  sir, 
it  is  not  I  that  am  responsible ! " 

The  worst  of  Denis,  as  he  was  fond  of 
admitting,  was  that  he  could  never  resist  a 
joke.  Sore  at  heart  as  he  was,  and  impudent 
as  were  the  girl's  look  and  words,  he  burst 
into  appreciative  laughter.  Such  humour 
indeed  must  be  suitably  rewarded.  And  if 
Mr.  O'Hara's  guineas  were  scarce,  he  was 
always  provided  with  a  kiss  for  a  pretty 
woman. 

"  Will  you  remember,  sir,  where  you 
are!"  cried  Lydia,  struggling  like  a  kitten, 
all  her  claws  out,  yet  with  no  intention  of 
scratching. 

"  And  in  what  better  place  could  I  be  ?  " 
cried  the  gallant  gentleman.  But  the  next 
minute,  overcome  once  more  by  his  misery, 
he  broke  off  abruptly,  sank  in  a  chair  an'd 
looked   round  with  haggard  eye. 

Miss  Lydia  lived  near  the  rose.  She  had 
literally,  indeed,  a  good  deal  of  the  scent  of 
the  rose  about  her,  for  she  considered  herself 
entitled  to  the  common  use  of  her  mistress's 

[9] 


^INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS^i 

flacons.  She  had,  moreover,  assimilated 
many  of  Kitty's  little  ways ;  and  her  room 
was  as  dainty  as  the  lady's  own,  with  many 
pretty  belongings  hallowed  by  previous  use. 

Mr.  O'Hara  groaned  softly.  Miss  Lydia 
whisked  round  upon  him,  rubbing  her  lip 
with  a  business-like  hand  and  showing  a 
colour  like  a  cherry  in  each  cheek. 

"  Now,  look  you,  Mr.  O'Hara,  sir,"  said 
she,  bustling,  "  this  is  no  time  for  philander- 
ings  .  .  .  nor  for  groans  either.  You  don't 
wish  my  mistress  to  be  married  to-morrow. 
Neither  do  I.  I  have  my  reasons.  A  man, 
that 's  as  good  as  married  already  !  It  shan't 
be  and  it  can't.  There  's  they  that  have  the 
right  to  claim  him  at  the  altar.      Hush  !  " 

Kitty's  voice  was  ringing  from  below  in 
clear  call  for  Lydia.  O'Hara  clasped  his 
hands  in  some  anxiety  of  mind  and  cast  a 
look  at  the  window;  but  the  damsel,  after 
a  momentary  pause,  proceeded  calmly  in  a 
rapid  undertone : 

"  And  there  's  no  time  for  questions  cither. 
Enough  that  I  'd  as  soon  the  sheriff  s  men  did 
not  get  you  to-night.  My  lady  might  want 
you  yet  —  and  I  might  want  you.  There, 
there,  be  quiet,  I  tell  you !  You  '11  not  rue 
it,  if  you  do  as   I  bid  you  at  once." 

[,o] 


^  The   bridegroom    REJECT  ^ 

She  began  to  move  about  the  room,  dehb- 
erately  busy ;  opened  a  press  here,  a  drawer 
there,  took  out  sundry  garments  ;  considered, 
selected,  put  back,  talking  the  while  with 
perfect  imperturbability. 

"  The  puce  silk  pelisse  which  my  lady 
bought  when  she  was  after  Lord  Verney, 
and  thought  to  look  sober  for  the  dowager 
and  my  Lady  Maria.  Neither  of  us  ever 
wore  it.  It  is  a  little  too  good,  perhaps ;  but 
there,  it's  such  a  quiet  colour!  The  bonnet 
we  wore,  second  mourning,  for  old  Bellairs. 
It  got  rained  on,  too  !  'T  will  suit  beautifully. 
The  kerchief.  Eh  ?  "  She  paused  and  ran 
her  eye  over  the  young  man's  petrified  figure. 
"  A  skirt  ?  "  she  said.  "  A  skirt  —  what  the 
mischief !  " 

She  seized  an  ancient  damask  petticoat 
and  measured  it  against  him.  He  looked  at 
his  own  long  protruding  legs  —  and  a  slow 
grin  spread  itself  upon  his  face.  The  call 
bell  at  the  head  of  the  bed  rang  with  a 
peremptory  jerk.  Lydia  glanced  at  it  side- 
ways and  proceeded : 

"'Tis  the  devil  you're  so  tall!  Stay  — 
I  have  the  very  thing." 

She  rushed  to  the  press,  plunged  into  its 
depths  and  emerged,  shaking  a  voluminous 


^INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS^^ 

garment  of  shot  purple  and  copper  hue  that 
made  a  o-reat  crackHng. 

"  Cook's  best,"  she  stated  briefly.  "  I  prom- 
ised to  put  a  bit  of  braid  on  it  for  her.  Poor 
servants,  sir — ^we  have  to  do  each  other  a 
good  turn  now  and  again.  'T  is  not  that 
she  's  so  much  taller  than  myself,  but  she 
takes  it  up  in   breadth." 

The  bell  rang  again,  a  double  peal  this 
time.  The  Abigail  did  not  even  turn  her 
head. 

"  I  '11  request  you  to  take  off  that  coat. 
Yes,  sir,  and  your  waistcoat,  too." 

She  slipped  a  wadded  skirt  from  her  chosen 
heap  over  his  head,  and  exclaimed  at  the 
size  of  his  waist.  Snips  and  stitches  had  to 
come  in  aid.  But  no  sooner  had  she  clothed 
him  in  "cook's  best"  than  the  lively  damsel 
anathematised  his  leanness. 

"  No  more  on  you,"  she  exclaimed,  once 
more  at  work  for  bare  life,  "  than  on  one  of 
your  own   Irish  red  herrings  !     How  in  the 

world ?     Well,  there,  then  we  must  just 

stuff,  I  suppose  !  There  's  all  my  mistress's 
stockings  that  I  was  packing  for  her  —  she'll 
not  need  them,  I'll  take  care  of  that;  but 
you  '11  have  to  give  them  back  to  me —  Drat 
that  bell !  " 

[I.] 


^  The  bridegroom    REJECT  ^ 

In  a  twinkling  Mr.  O'Hara  found  him- 
self seated  before  the  dressing-table,  Lydia's 
hands  busy  in  the  thick  curls  of  his  hair. 

"  Cook  favours  a  plain  style,"  quoth 
Lydia. 

"Mercy!"  cried  Mr.  O'Hara,  suddenly 
waking  up  and  wincing,  "  what  a  fright 
you  're  making  of  me,  child." 

"  Do  you  want  your  beauty  to  be  recog- 
nised about  the  streets }  "  said  Miss  Lydia 
in  her  dry  way.  And  as  she  spoke  she 
smeared  a  dab  of  pomade  on  either  side  of 
the  bandeaux  and  surveyed  her  handiwork 
with  much  satisfaction. 

"Now,"  quoth  she,  "for  your  face.  I 
hope  I  can  paint  a  face  with  any  tire- 
woman in  England.  Some  of  the  eye-brow- 
brown  mixed  with  the  rouge,  as  near  cook's 
own  tone  as  I  can  get  it,  and  as  little  eye- 
brow as  possible." 

Her  hands  flew.  O'Hara  fell  into  a 
dream ;  there  was  something  soothing  in 
the  manipulation.  Then,  upon  a  sudden 
thought : 

"  Did  you  ever  use  these  implements  on 
your  mistress's  face?"  he  asked. 

And,  as  Lydia  told  him  "  yes,"  with  a  sharp, 
sidelong  glance,  she  saw   him  kiss  the  old 


^:  INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^ 

hare's-foot  as  it  passed  his  lips  and  laughed 
half  scornfully,  half  pityingly. 

•  ••••••• 

Mrs.  Bellairs'  negro  boy  had  been  knock- 
ing at  Miss  Lydia's  door  for  full  five  minutes, 
and  shrilly  clamouring,  before,  with  a  flounce 
and  a  whisk,  she  admitted  him. 

"  Have  n't  you  been  taught  better,"  she 
cried,  tweaking  his  wool  with  practised  fin- 
gers, "  than  to  disturb  ladies  in  their  con- 
versation? " 

"  Missus,"  began  the  boy,  whimpering ; 
then  broke  off  to  stare  aghast  at  the  huge, 
forbidding  female  who  now  rose  and  ad- 
vanced upon  him.  As  he  met  the  gaze  of 
a  pair  of  mad,  light  eyes,  dancing  in  the 
candle  light  out  of  the  raddled  and  haggard 
face,  Pompey  gave  a  howl  and  fairly  took  to 
his  heels. 

"  A  body  may  n't  have  her  own  aunts 
visit  her,  next !  "  growled  Lydia  after  him, 
through  the  open  door,  tying  on  her  outer 
garments  as  she  spoke  with  jerky  energy. 
"  This  way,  Aunt  Eliza,  dear,  and  mind  the 
step." 

O'Hara,  smothering  laughter  till  he  grew 
purple  under  the  paint,  followed,  in  outer 
meekness,    his    bustling    guide.       As    they 

[h] 


<^' 


^  The  bridegroom    REJECT  ^ 

passed  the  parlour  door,  it  was  suddenly 
flung  open : 

"  Upon  my  word,  miss,"cried  Kitty,  "and  this 
is  pretty  behaviour!  Pray,  where  may  you 
have  been,  the  while  I  have  been  calling  till  I 
was  hoarse,  and  ringing  till  my  arm  ached?" 

"  Ringing,  ma'am  !"  echoed  the  innocent 
Abigail.  "  Did  you  indeed  ?  The  bells  in 
this  house  —  they're  a  scandal!  My  Aunt 
Eliza,  ma'am,  from  Wales,  of  whom,  you  '11 
remember,  I  've  often  told  you.  My  poor 
mother's  only  sister."  Lydia  gave  her  fa- 
vourite sniff,  which  this  time  signified  pathos. 
Rarely  had  she  more  thoroughly  enjoyed 
a  situation.  "  She  arrived  to  see  me,  unex- 
pected, this  evening  —  and  if  you'll  allow 
me,  I  should  like,  with  your  permission,  to 
go  out  for  half-an-hour." 

The  gleam  in  Lydia's  eyes  somewhat 
marred  the  humility  of  this  request.  There 
was  a  certain  point,  Mistress  Kitty  knew, 
bevond  which  she  did  not  dare  q-q  in  her 
dealings  with  her  confidential  maid.  She 
tossed  her  head  discontentedly:  "Not  more 
than  half-an-hour,  then." 

As  she  was  turning  away  her  careless  eye 
glance  fell  upon  Lydia's  aunt,  became  fixed 
and  widened  with  amaze.   The  huge  figure  in 

[15] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


cook's  best,  modestly  drooped  its  head  till 
the  plumes  that  had  mourned  for  "old 
Bellairs  "  fell  forward  unrecognised  over  the 
shaded  countenance;  and  "Aunt  Eliza" 
began  a  series  of  spasmodic  dips,  faithfully 
copied  from  the  countrywomen  in  the  market 
place  of  Bath. 

Mrs.  Bellairs  whisked  back  into  the  parlour 
and  slammed  the  door.  How  dared  Lydia 
have  such  extraordinary  belongings  ? 

Lydia  nipped  her  relative's  arm  with 
exceeding  sharpness  as  they  emerged  on 
Queen  Square. 

"  Now  don't  be  more  of  a  fool  than  you  can 
help  .  .  .  and  for  Gracious  sake  "  (her  nails 
nearly  met  in  his  flesh)  "don't  take  strides 
like  that.  Don't  turn  your  head  —  there  are 
your  men  under  the  trees  opposite." 

Fortunately  the  square  was  sparsely  lit, 
and  the  wits  of  the  sheriff's  ofificcrs  none  of 
the  keenest.  The  bulky  female  who  minced 
along  with  nodding  feathers  was  only  stared 
at  in  stupid  amusement  and  allowed  to  go 
by  unmolested. 

"  Where  are  you  bringing  me  to, darling.?  " 
whispered  O'Hara  hoarsely  as  they  rounded 
the  dangerous  corner.  And  his  arm,  irre- 
pressible   still,    despite    disguise,    began    to 

[■6] 


^  The  bridegroom    REJECT   ^ 

creep  round  the  sprightly  figure.  "  I  hope 
it 's  not  far;  for  much  as  I  love  the  petticoats, 
they  don't  take  kindly  to  me  this  way  at  all." 

"  I  'm  bringing  you  to  a  friend,"  answered 
the  other  with  stern  repression.  "  It 's  not 
likely  she  '11  want  to  be  bothered  with  you, 
for  she  's  in  trouble  herself,  but  "  —  she  halted, 
while  suspicion  and  vindictiveness  glistened 
in  her  eye — "you'll  have  to  give  me  your 
word,  sir,  that  there  will  be  no  philandering 
in  that  house  to-night.  If  not,  I  wash  my 
hands  of  you.  I  'm  not  going  to  have  had 
all  this  bother  for  nothing.'' 

"  I  give  you  my  word,  I  '11  be  as  good 
as  gold,"  solemnly  declared  O'Hara,  awake 
once  more  to  the  graver  issues  of  the  venture. 
Too  well  did  he  know  the  power  of  the  tire- 
woman in  her  mistress's  councils. 

"  Then  you  '11  keep  to  your  room,  and 
behave,  till  you  hear  from  me  again.  And 
here  we  are  now." 

It  was  the  end  of  Quiet  Street.  O'Hara 
stared  at  the  round  jutting  bow-window, 
lit  up  behind  its  lace  curtains,  and  barely 
restrained  himself  from  whistling  aloud. 

"  Ned  Stafford's  little  French  milHner !  " 

The  plot  was  thickening. 

■     [17]     "     ■     ■ 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


A  small,  slim  thing,  of  squirrel-like  nimble- 
ness  and  brightness  of  eye,  this  same 
Madame  Esrlantine.  But  the  brioht  crlance 
to-night  was  dim,  and  the  olive  cheek  tear- 
roughened,  as  the  lady  came  herself  to  the 
door  to  answer  the  knock. 

Leaving  the  aunt  from  Wales  unceremoni- 
ously in  the  narrow  passage,  Lydia  darted 
upon  her  friend  and  drew  her  into  the  shop; 
whence  the  sound  of  a  long  whispered 
colloquy,  broken  by  little  explosions,  some- 
times of  laughing,  sometimes  of  crying, 
penetrated  to  the  listener's  ear.  At  last 
Lydia  returned,  very  tight  and  determined. 

"  I  shall  be  here  about  ten  o'clock  to- 
morrow," she  said  as  she  passed  O'Hara; 
then  added  in  a  fierce  whisper:  "  You  may 
take  off  your  disguise,  so  long  as  you 
don't  hang  out  of  the  window.  And  please 
to  remember,  sir,  to  be  careful  with  cook's 
best  paduasoy  and  my  mantle,  unless  you 
wish  me  to  repent  of  my  good  nature." 

"  Vill  you  come  dis  vay,  please,  me 
lady?"  said  Madame  Eglantine,  beckoning 
to  him,  while  between  their  swollen  lids  her 
black  eyes  shot  a  gleam  of  such  mirth  and 
mischief  at  him  that  he  was  hard  set  to 
keep  his  promise  of  "  behaviour." 

[.8] 


^  The  bridegroom    REJECT   ^^ 

Keep  it,  however,  he  did  ;  met  with  an 
unmoved  gravity  the  sudden  friendliness  with 
which  the  pretty  Frenchwoman  laughingly 
surveyed  him  so  soon  as  they  were  alone 
together  in  the  neat  garret  allotted  to  him  ; 
met  with  the  same  stolid  irresponsiveness 
her  fresh  change  of  mood,  when,  wiping  the 
corner  of  her  pretty  eye  with  her  lace  apron, 
she  hinted,  with  head  engagingly  on  one  side, 
that  heaven  knew  s/ie  had  no  desire  to  be 
making  pleasantry,  and  that  nobody's  heart 
could  be  more  completely  broken  than  her 
own. 

Mr,  O'Hara  was  not  aware  how  greatly 
his  solemn  demeanour  added  to  the  comi- 
cality of  his  appearance ;  nor  did  Madame 
Eglantine  herself  seem  to  realise  it,  for  there 
was  very  little  amusement  in  the  petulant 
look  she  finally  flung  upon  him,  and  in  the 
dry  manner  in  which  she  remarked  :  "  that 
she  would  deransfe  monsieur  no  lono-er  and 
would  send  up  his  supper,  in  due  course." 

"  Pity ! "  thought  the  gentleman  to  him- 
self, as  the  door  closed  upon  the  wave  of  a 
tempestuous  petticoat.  "Sure  it  wouldn't 
have  done  a  ha'p'orth  of  harm  to  anyone,  if 
me  and  that  darling  little  soul  had  deludered 
our  troubles  for  a  while   by  a  smile    and  a 

[>9] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


tear  together.  But,  there,  I  've  given  me 
word.  God  help  Lydia's  husband  !  I  fear 
she's  the  born  old  maid!" 

He  took  an  impatient  turn  up  and  down 
the  room,  then  suddenly  catching  sight  of 
his  countenance  in  the  little  square  of  glass 
hanging  on  the  wall,  seized  a  candle  and 
drew  near  to  gaze. 

"  Faith,"  he  laughed,  "  I  'm  the  holy  show, 
and  that 's  the  truth  !  " 

Suddenly  the  eyes  gazing  into  the  mirror 
became  fixed,  the  grinning  countenance  over- 
spread with  a  deep  gravity.  Full  a  minute 
or  so  Mr.  O'Hara  remained  motionless,  con- 
templating some  inward  vision.  He  passed 
a  forefinger  dubiously  over  his  chin,  then, 
lost  in  reflection,  he  walked  over  to  the  little 
bed  and  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  it. 

A  small,  sharp,  charity  girl  staggered  in 
with  a  tray  and  stared  with  cunning  eyes  at 
the  stran2:e  fissure. 

"  Look  here,  child,"  said  O'Hara  suddenly, 
"  I  '11  give  you  a  whole  crown  piece  .  .  .  next 
week,  if  you'll  bring  me  a  jug  of  hot  water 
to-morrow  morning,  and  if  you  can  beg, 
borrow  or  steal  a  razor  for  me  at  the  same 
time  —  and,  stop,  a  packet  of  face-powder." 


[20] 


li  The  bridegroom    REJECT   ^ 

If  it  had  been  his  own  wedding  morn 
instead  of  that  of  Mr.  Stafford,  the  Hon. 
Denis  O'Hara  could  not  have  bestowed 
more  care  upon  the  shaving  of  his  handsome 
chin.  It  was  a  ha2:2:ard  face  that  looked 
into  the  glass,  still  strangely  crowned  by 
feminine  bandeaux  of  hair:  for  Mr.  O'Hara, 
having  his  own  reasons  for  desiring  to  pre- 
serve Lydia's  handiwork  undamaged,  had 
spent  the  night,  not  in  bed,  but  in  uneasy 
dozing  upon  a  high  chair. 

This  business  accomplished,  he  next  pro- 
ceeded to  set  to  rights  the  embarrassing  gar- 
ments—  a  somewhat  uncertain  proceeding, 
attended  by  a  good  deal  of  fumbling  with 
unfamiliar  hooks  and  eyes,  and  a  good  deal 
of  subdued  cursing.  When  the  stiff  ker- 
chief had  been  refolded  across  his  artificially 
buxom  figure,  Mr.  O'Hara  stationed  himself 
once  ao-ain  before  the  mirror.  And  now  all 
the  experience  culled  behind  the  scenes  — 
in  ladies'  boudoir  or  the  playhouse  —  was 
brought  to  bear  upon  the  situation. 

With  the  aid  of  the  packet  faithfully  pro- 
vided by  the  serving  maid,  and  a  great  deal 
of  friction,  he  succeeded  in  producing  a  truly 
interesting  pallor.  An  artistic  loosening  of 
Lydia's    coiffure,    with   a   cloud   of   powder, 

[21] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


next  created  such  an  improvement  that  Mr. 
O'Hara,  surveying  himself  knowingly,  was 
pleased  to  observe  that  he  would  not  have 
made  such  an  ill-looking  female  after  all ! 
And,  when  his  labours  were  crowned  by  the 
nodding  plumes  and  a  gracefully-disposed 
lace  veil  : 

"  I  defy  anyone,"  he  cried  joyfully,  "  to  say 
I  don't  look  the  image  of  respectability  — 
for  once." 

Then  he  pulled  his  flexible  mouth  into 
lines  of  woe. 

"  Afiflicted  respectability,"  he  added,  with 
approval. 

All  the  chimes  and  church  clocks  of  the 
old  grey  town  were  ringing  out  eight  in 
the  morning  when  O'Hara,  with  the  most 
genteel  gait  imaginable,  emerged  from  the 
doors  of  the  little  milliner  and  directed  his 
steps  towards  a  ladies'  chocolate-house  oppo- 
site the  Abbey.  There  he  spent  his  last 
white  piece  on  a  cup  of  coffee,  and  took 
great  satisfaction  in  the  fact  that  his  appear- 
ance evoked  but  a  passing  curiosity. 

"  They  think  I  am  just  a  fine  figure  of  a 
woman,"  he  told  himself,  with  an  inward 
chuckle. 


["] 


^  The  bridegroom    REJECT   ^ 

Punctually  upon  the  chime  of  a  quarter 
to  eleven,  a  coach,  drawn  by  a  shining  pair 
of  horses,  halted  with  important  clatter  at 
the  Orange  Grove  entrance  of  the  Abbey. 
My  Lord  Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells  stepped 
out,  followed  by  an  attendant  Canon ;  was 
received  in  due  state  by  several  minor  dig- 
nitaries and  conducted  into  the  vestry.  It 
was  a  bright  gusty  morning  and  his  skirts 
fluttered  against  his  handsome  purple  legs 
as  they  moved  in  dignity  from  coach  to 
porch.  A  noble-looking  prelate  —  Kitty 
Bellairs  could  not  have  been  married  in 
Bath  by  any  lesser  personage  —  and,  this 
morning,  filled  with  the  condescending  ur- 
banity of  one  ready  to  rejoice  with  those 
who  rejoiced ! 

No  sooner  had  he  crossed  the  threshold 
than  the  Abbey  bells  set  up  a  mad  clangour 
of  chimes. 

"  Quite  a  notable  event  this,  Mr.  Selwyn," 
said  the  Bishop,  affably  addressing  the  Dean. 

"  Indeed  so,  my  lord,"  quoth  the  Dean,  a 
pretty  mouse-grey  man,  rubbing  his  hands 
till  they  almost  crackled.  "  The  Abbey  is 
full  of  our  most  elegant  visitors." 

"The  lady  —  ah  —  is  possessed  of  con- 
siderable —  ah  —  personal  attractions." 

[^3] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


"  It  is  so  reputed,  my  lord." 

"  And  I  believe,"  said  the  Bishop,  "  of  no 
mean  fortune." 

"  Vastly  rich,  they  say,  my  lord." 

"  Then,"  said  his  lordship  waggishly, 
"  the  bridegroom  is  indeed  (as  our  fashion- 
able youths  might  say)  a  lucky  dog." 

Before  the  Dean,  the  Canon,  and  the 
minor  clerics  had  at  all  mastered  their  ap- 
preciation of  this  episcopal  sally  there  came 
a  loud  knocking  at  the  door — and,  upon 
the  verger  proceeding  to  open  it,  a  colloquy 
ensued  outside  which  soon  became  of  so 
earnest  a  nature  as  to  attract  the  Dean's 
attention. 

"What  is  this,  Jenkinson  .? " 

"  Please,  Mr.  Dean,  sir,  there 's  a  lady 
demanding  to  see  his  lordship  in  private. 
I  've  told  her,  sir,  it 's  quite  impossible  ;  his 
lordship  is  robing." 

"But  I  must  see  his  lordship  —  'tis  most 
urgent."  The  strained,  high-pitched  voice 
smote  the  Dean  with  furtlier  amazement. 
"  I  must  see  his  lordship!  " 

And  the  lady,  pushing  open  the  door  with 
remarkable  ease  against  the  efforts  of  the 
verger,  made  good  her  footing  inside  the 
reverend  circle.     Dean  and  Canon  fell  back 


The  bridegroom    REJECT 


in  some  dismay  before  the  imposing  female 
figure  that  entered  among  them  with  this 
sweeping  energy,  but  the  prelate  frowned 
and  advanced  sternly  to  meet  her. 

"  This  intrusion,  madam " 

The  lady  rolled  upon  him  (from  over  the 
folds  of  a  voluminous  handkerchief)  an  eye 
laden  with  so  much  tragedy  that  the  Bishop 
was  instantly  impressed. 

"Your  lordship,"  said  she,  sinking  her 
high  note  of  distress  into  one  that  matched 
the  expression  of  her  gaze,  "had  I  waited 
but  five  minutes  later  to  seek  you  it  would 
have  been  too  late ;  a  crime " 

"How  now!"  exclaimed  his  lordship, 
quick  to  seize  the  inference,  "  do  you  mean, 
madam?  —  tut,  tut,  'tis  impossible.  This 
marriage ? " 

"  Alas  ! "  cried  the  new-comer  with  a  stifled 
sob  and  buried  her  face  more  completely. 

This  was  a  case  of  genuine  distress  or 
Dr.  Thurlow  had  little  knowledge  of  an 
unhappy  world.  An  agitated  hand  plucked 
him  by  his  lawn  sleeve  as  he  advanced  still 
closer  to  the  weeping  unknown. 

"  Your  lordship,  the  bride  is  arriving." 

There  was  another  jangle  of  joy-bells. 
The  stranger  moaned. 

[^5] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS^S 


K 


*'  The  bride  must  wait  then,  sir,"  said  the 
Bishop,  and  looked  rebukingly  round  upon 
the  curious  faces  that  pressed  nearer. 
"Stand  back,  gentlemen,"  he  commanded. 
"  I  must  speak  a  few  words  with  this  lady  in 
private." 

"  Upon  my  word,"  whispered  the  Canon  to 
the  Dean  as,  slightly  huffed,  they  withdrew, 
"  this  is  an  odd  business." 

"  It  bodes  ill,"  quoth  the  Dean,  wagging 
his  little  head  till  the  powder  ficw,  "  for  the 
'  lucky  dog's  '  marriage  to-day  !  " 

"  Pooh !  "  said  the  Canon,  as  he  propped 
his  burly  form  against  the  great  carved  oak 
press.  "  That  creature,  that  grenadier  of  a 
woman  —  an  adventuress,  I  '11  warrant !  " 

"An  adventuress!  I  am  not  so  sure. 
Watch  her  now,  Mr.  Selwyn.  'T  is  some 
weighty  story  she  pours  into  his  lordship's 
ear.     And  mark  you  his  countenance." 

"She  has  a  fine  pair  of  eyes  and  knows 
how  to  roll  them,"  whispered  the  Canon 
drily. 

Then  they  nudged  each  other;  but  the 
meaning  smiles  faded  from  their  countenance 
as  the  mysterious  stranger's  voice  was  raised 
in  broken  accents,  and  the  pathetic  an- 
nouncement :  "  Six  living,  your  lordship,  and 

[26] 


The  bridegroom    REJECT 


one  underground !  "  was  delivered  in  tones 
audible  enough  to  reach  all  their  ears. 
These  tones  were  of  rich   Irish  quality. 

The  Bishop  also  raised  his  voice,  shocked 
out  of  his  first  impulse  of  discretion. 

"  Fie,  fie  !  This  is  a  terrible  scandal.  It 
is  a  pity  that  matters  should  have  been 
allowed  to  go  so  far." 

"  Sure  I  only  crossed  last  night.  And  a 
terrible  tossinsr " 


"Tut,  tut!  To  the  point,  madam!  If, 
indeed,  a  previous  marriage  ceremony  has 
really  taken  place " 

"  In  Ballybrophy  Church,  your  lordship, 
nine  years  ago  next  Patrick's  Day,  as  sure  as 
I  am  a  living  wo " 

The  Bishop  extended  his  pastoral  hand 
with  a  deprecating  gesture  and  turned  to 
beckon  to  his  subordinates.  His  counte- 
nance was  seamed  with  lines  of  care,  yet 
bore  an  expression  of  not  altogether  ungrati- 
fied  importance. 

"  Mr.  Dean,"  he  said  gravely,  "  I  see  no 
help  for  it :  we  must  request  Mr.  Stafford's 
presence  here  immediately." 

As  he  spoke,  the  joy-bells,  which  had  been 
but  faintly  jangling  the  last  few  minutes, 
suddenly  fell  into  silence ;  and,  after  a  dead 

[^7] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


little  pause,   the  solemn  chimes    gave   forth 
the  hour  of  eleven. 

•  •••  •••• 

Mistress  Bellairs  had  been  waiting  some 
time  in  vain  for  the  officiating  clergy,  before 
the  eyes  of  all  fashionable  Bath,  and  by 
the  side  of  a  slightly  anxious  bridegroom. 
She  had  arrived  at  the  Abbey  in  none  too 
good  a  humour;  and  for  every  second  of 
delay  accumulated  fresh  vials  of  resentment 
against  the  innocent  partner  of  her  discom- 
fiture. But  when  this  latter  was  fetched 
away  from  the  altar  steps  by  a  solemn-faced 
gentleman  in  a  surplice  and  the  subdued 
amazement  of  her  guests  broke  into  loud 
whispers  and  titters,  her  fury  grew  almost 
unbearable. 

Miss  Lydia,  screened  behind  a  monument 
(sufficiently  near  the  altar  to  keep  a  keen 
eye  upon  the  progress  of  events)  had  not 
been  so  sensible  of  the  flight  of  time ;  for 
she  was  engaged  in  animated  discussion 
with  her  companion — a  small  woman  whose 
dark,  tear-stained  face  was  almost  hidden 
under  a  hood. 

"  I  tell  you,"  she  was  repeating  impatiently 
for  about  the  twentieth  time,  "  you  've  nothing 
to  be  afraid  of.     Lord,    Madame  Eglantine, 

[28] 


I  The  BRIDEGROOM    REJECT 


>8^ 


don't  be  such  a  fool !  'T  is  all  as  easy  as 
kissing.  Ought  n't  I  to  know  my  mistress's 
mind?  Why,  I  tell  you  she  's  only  longing 
for  the  excuse  —  for  any  excuse.  If  he  'd 
given  her  a  pretext  no  bigger  than  the  black 
of  my  nail  she  'd  jump  at  it.  She  does  not 
really  want  to  be  married,  no  more  to  him 
than  to  anyone.  And  if  you  work  your  bit 
of  scandal " 

"  Ah,  Miss  Lydia,"  said  the  little  French- 
woman, trembling  from  head  to  foot,  "  I 
shall  be  know  and   I  shall  be  ruin  !  " 

"Ruined,  you  mean-spirited  thing!  cried 
Lydia  in  angry  despair.  "  Is  that  what 
you're  thinking  on  at  the  last  moment.? 
And  will  you  let  your  beau  be  snapped 
away  when  you  can  keep  him  by  stretching 
out  your  hand  .'^  Well,  I  declare,  I  'm  prodi- 
gious sorry  I  ever  took  all  this  trouble  about 
you.  If  you  'd  even  had  the  sense  to  keep 
an  eye  on  Mr.  O'Hara,  as  I  told  you  —  him 
as  I  meant  to  have  ready  to  snatch  her  off 
in  her  coach  as  soon  as  we  had  scored  the 
first  trick.  A  nice  fool  I  was  to  trust  either 
of  you !  Ruined,  you  little  French  zany, 
why,  how  could  you  be  ruined  ?  All  you 
have  to  do  is  to  keep  your  hood  over  your 
face  and  whisper  in  the  lady's  ear;  she  won't 

[29] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


be  so  anxious  to  show  your  little  muzzle  to 
the  world. " 

"  The  bell  have  stop  !  "  interrupted  the 
Frenchwoman  suddenly. 

Lydia  craned  a  long  neck  round  the 
monument.  Presently  she  turned  back, 
bursting  with  excitement. 

"  I  declare,"  she  cried,  "  something  's  up  ! 
They  've  fetched  Mr.  Stafford  away  from  the 
very  altar.  And  there  's  the  bride  all  alone. 
Well !  "  Then,  as  such  born  generals  gen- 
erally are,  she  was  seized  with  the  inspiration 
of  the  emergency.  "  Now  is  your  moment!" 
she  whispered,  gripping  Madame  Eglantine 
fiercely.  "  Go  and  tell  your  story  in  my 
mistress's  ear ;  and,  if  this  wedding  goes 
on,  I  'm  a  Dutchwoman  !  Tell  her  he 's 
promised  you  marriage,  mind  .  .  .  We  must 
stretch  a  point  sometimes." 

■  •••••  •  • 

When  Denis  O'Hara  saw  Mr.  Stafford's 
puzzled  face  following  in  the  wake,  of  the 
usher's  jDortentously  set  countenance,  he  had 
reached  that  staw  of  what  he  would  himself 
have  described  as  "devilment,"  in  which  a 
man  becomes  quite  reckless  of  consequences. 
No  sooner  had  the  bridegroom  crossed  the 
threshold  of  the  vestry  than  he  flung  himself 

[30] 


1  The  bridegroom    REJECT 


headlong  upon  the  beruffled  bosom,  and  the 
mad  mirth  he  had  so  long  suppressed  broke 
out  in  hysterical  gasps  and  sobs. 

Clutched  in  a  strangulating  embrace,  over- 
whelmed by  the  suddenness  of  the  attack 
and  the  physical  weight  of  the  demonstrative 
lady,  by  the  noise  of  her  distress  and  the 
volume  of  her  silks  and  laces,  Mr.  Stafford 
for  once  lost  his  cool  head,  staggered  and 
turned  pale.  Rolling  a  wild  eye  round  for  ex- 
planation and  help  he  met  the  Bishop  s  gaze 
fixed  upon  him  with  searching  reprobation. 

"A  most  painful  scene  !"  said  his  lordship. 
"  But,  thank  Providence,  a  crime  has  been 
timely  averted  —  and  the  sweet  confidence 
of  so  virtuous  and  trusting  a  lady  as  Mis- 
tress Bellairs  has  not  been  abused  beyond 
repair." 

"  Crime  —  confidence  !  "  ejaculated  the 
bridegroom.     "What  in ?" 

He  made  a  struQ^CTJe  to  relieve  himself 
from  the  octopus-like  embrace ;  but,  owing 
to  his  reluctance  to  put  forth  his  strength 
against  a  woman,  only  succeeded  in  produc- 
ing a  momentary  relaxation  followed  by  a  yet 
more  loving  clasp.  Denis  felt  that  speech 
was  imperatively  demanded  of  the  injured 
wife ;  but,  aware   that  his  first  words  must 

[31] 


^INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


inevitably  betray  him,  he  was  forced  to  re- 
strict himself  to  moaning  endearments. 

The  dhwnement  could  not  have  been  de- 
layed but  for  an  unforeseen  development. 
Mr.  Stafford  was  not  one  likely  to  be  long 
deserted  by  his  wits;  the  colour  had  come 
back  to  his  cheeks,  and  assurance  to  his 
voice,  when  next  he  spoke: 

"  Will  someone  kindly  tell  me  who  this 
person  is  supposed  to  be  } " 

The  Bishop  inflated  his  high  nostril  still 
higher  with  a  scornful  snort. 

"If  you  deny  your  wife's  identity,  sir  —  " 
he  began,  when  Mr.  Stafford  interrupted 
him  with  a  fierce  laugh  of  dawning  com- 
prehension. 

"My  wife!"  he  cried.  "Oho!  Aha!" 
And  with  little  of  their  previous  forbearance, 
his  hands  laid  hold  of  the  muscular  wrists 
that  displayed  such  unfeminine  strength. 
"  Let  me  see  what  sort  of  face  this  wife 
of  mine  carries  upon  her  remarkably  fine 
figure  !  " 

There  was  a  scuffle,  the  struggle  of  two 
well-matched  men.  O'Hara's  one  idea  was 
to  postpone  the  revealing  vision  of  his  coun- 
tenance;  and  while  resisting,  therefore,  with 
all  his  might,  he  kept  boring  his  head  into 


^  The  bridegroom    REJECT   i| 

Stafford's  chest,  much  to  the  detriment  of 
the  mourning  bonnet. 

"  Mercy,"  exclaimed  the  Bishop,  "  he  will 
kill  her!  Gentlemen,  secure  the  ruffian  — 
call  the  watch  !  " 

But  the  Canon,  heedless  of  the  episcopal 
command,  cried  to  the  Dean  in  a  fit  of 
sporting  enthusiasm  : 

"  Gad,  sir,  I  '11  back  the  petticoats  —  she  '11 
have  him  down  to  a  certainty  !  " 

It  was  at  this  juncture  that  Fate  inter- 
vened. 

So  many  strange  things  seemed  to  happen 
this  morning  that  Mistress  Kitty's  wedding 
ofuests  beheld  with  more  amusement  than  sur- 
prise  how,  immediately  after  the  mysterious 
removal  of  the  bridegroom,  a  small,  cloaked 
woman,  who  kept  her  face  concealed,  crept 
to  the  bride's  side  and  began  to  whisper  in 
her  ear. 

But  after  a  brief  colloquy,  in  which  Mis- 
tress Bellairs  had  vouchsafed  every  token  of 
indignation  and  astonishment,  it  was  felt  that 
matters  had  gone  beyond  a  jest  when  she 
suddenly  sprang  to  her  feet,  clutched  the 
becloaked  woman  by  the  wrist  and  marched 
with  her  towards  the  vestry,  a  perfect  tornado 

3  l33  ] 


^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^ 

of  white  lace,  pearl-pink  brocade  and  waving 
white  plumes. 

Miss  Lydia  now  likewise  emerged  from 
the  background  and,  with  the  audible  cry  : 
"What  is  this  —  my  poor  mistress  ?  Oh!  I 
must  to  her  aid  !  "  (which,  having  a  taste  for 
the  drama,  she  contrived  to  deliver  in  the 
best  style  of  the  "  devoted  attendant,")  rushed 
in  the  bride's  wake. 

Those  who  had  staked  their  money  on 
Stafford's  chance  began  to  look  rueful,  while 
there  was  proportionate  triumph  with  those 
who  had  freely  betted  that  there  would  again 
be  no  marriage  of  Kitty  Bellairs. 

The  wrath  of  Mistress  Bellairs  (which  was 
genuine)  and  her  astonishment  that  there 
should  be  anyone  else  with  a  claim  upon  the 
man  she  had  come  forth  herself  to  marry 
(which  was  well-feigned),  merged  into  one 
overwhelming  stupefaction  when,  bursting 
into  the  vestry,  she  discovered  Mr.  Stafford 
struggling  in  the  embrace  of  yet  another 
woman. 

But  little  Madame  Eglantine,  who  had 
made  closer  acquaintance  with  the  shot  silk 
and  the  brown  mantua,  instantly  grasped  the 
situation ;  and  on  the  spot  she  determined  to 

[J4j 


^  The  bridegroom    REJECT   ^ 

make  the  most  of  it  for  her  own  ends,  well 
realising  that,  whatever  the  issue,  her  small 
personality  must  sink  into  safe  insignifi- 
cance. 

"Ah,  del!'"  she  cried,  quite  as  dramati- 
cally as  Miss  Lydia,  "  but  this  is  not  to 
believe  one's  eyes  !  " 

She  ran  forward,  flinging  off  her  cloak. 

"  Let  him  go,  madame,  let  him  go !  "  she 
commanded  shrilly,  and  herself  laid  hold  of 
Stafford  with  clawing  hands.  "  He  is  neither 
of  yours  nor  of  Madame  Bellairs:  he  is 
mine  by  all  the  promises  a  man  of  honour 
can  make  !  " 

Assaulted  from  this  unexpected  quarter, 
Mr.  Stafford  loosened  his  grasp  of  O'Hara 
with  such  abruptness  that  the  gentleman, 
unable  to  recover  his  balance  and  hampered 
by  his  petticoats,  stumbled  and  fell  face 
forward  on  the  floor.  Madame  Eglantine 
profited  by  the  opening  to  fling  herself  in 
her  turn  upon  the  bridegroom's  bosom. 

The  Bishop,  who,  finding  his  orders 
unheeded,  had  been  actually  hesitating  on 
the  brink  of  personal  interference,  was  now 
seized  v/ith  the  full  tide  of  that  choler  which 
is  not  only  constitutional  with  gentlemen  of 
his  rufous  complexion,  but  which  was  here 

[35] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


imperatively  demanded  of  the  outraged  dig- 
nity of  the  Church. 

His  red  eyebrows  arched  above  his  haughty, 
protuberant  eye.  His  tense  muscles  quivered 
as  he  stood  looking  from  the  trim  little 
body  clinging  to  Stafford's  repellent  arms  to 
the  ungainly  figure  stretched  upon  the  floor. 
He  cried  in  a  voice  of  thunder: 

"  This  is  the  most  disgusting  spectacle  I 

—  I "    Words  failed  him.    "  Mr.  Selvvyn, 

my  coach ! " 

As  he  turned,  repudiating  with  a  Jove-like 
sweep  the  now  superfluous  lawn,  his  eye  fell 
upon  Kitty. 

"  My  dear  lady,"  said  he,  "  my  dear  child  !  " 

—  and  it  was  beautiful  to  see  how  the  ten- 
derness of  the  shepherd  for  his  afflicted  lamb 
struggled  with  his  righteous  anger  against 
the  prowling  wolf.  "  I  will  not  insult  you 
by  asking  you  if  you  still  desire 


Mrs.  Bellairs  whisked  round  upon  him 
with  something:  of  the  movement  of  a  kitten, 
dashing  on  one  side  the  smelling  salts  which 
Lydia  —  very  anxious  to  get  her  mistress  out 
of  the  way  before  she  should  discover  the 
identity  of  the  aunt  from  Wales  —  was  offi- 
ciously offering.  The  bride's  eyes  literally 
shot  sparks. 

[J6] 


^  The  bridegroom    REJECT   ii 

"  I  will  not,"  pursued  the  Bishop,  "  insult 
you,  by  explaining  to  you  that  this  marriage 
cannot  now  proceed.  You  have  my  fullest 
sympathy.  May  I  offer  you  a  seat  in  my 
carriage  .f*  You  will  thus  avoid  the  further 
unpleasantness " 

Kitty's  cheeks  were  flaming  under  her 
rouge. 

"  Certainly  not,  my  Lord  Bishop ! "  she 
exclaimed.  "  I  will  have  some  explanation 
of  this  odious  business  first,  and  am  sur- 
prised you  should  not  also  consider  it  your 
duty " 

"  My  jurisdiction,  madam,"  cried  he,  inter- 
rupting her  in  his  turn  with  equal  acerbity, 
"  does  not  extend —  I  am  thankful  to  say  — 
over  the  conduct  of  all  the  profligates,"  here 
he  flung  a  withering  glance  upon  the  un- 
fortunate Stafford,  who  had  but  just  suc- 
ceeded in  freeing  himself  from  Madame 
Eglantine  and  was  regarding  her  reproach- 
fully, "  nor  of  all  the  unfortunate  females," 
here  his  lordship's  eyes  were  averted  in  dis- 
taste from  the  still  prostrate  O'Hara  who 
deemed  that  utter  collapse  was  now  his  only 
resource,  "who  flock  to  this  city  of  Bath. 
But,"  proceeded  Dr.  Thurlow,  turning  to 
the  clerics  and  speaking  in  a  tone  that  made 

[J7] 


lilNCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS^ 

of  the  observation  a  command,  "  I  leave  it  to 
Mr.  Dean  to  see  that  the  fullest  investio^a- 
tion  be  carried  through."  And  thereupon 
he  moved  to  the  door  and  was  lost  to  sight. 

"The  fullest  investigation!"  sniffed  Mis- 
tress Bellairs,  no  whit  impressed.  "I  should 
think  so  indeed.  Leave  me  alone,  Lydia,  I 
will  not  come  away.  Mr.  Stafford,  sir,  I  had 
heard  rumours,  but  I  refused  to* believe  them. 
That  person,  I  presume,  is  your  Madame 
Clandestine  —  Eglantine  — -or  whatever  the 
name  may  be  ...  it  matters  little  to  me. 
But  who  —  who  —  }  Oh,  will  one  of  you 
reverend  gentlemen,"  said  the  bride,  and 
even  in  her  anger  she  did  not  forget  her 
pretty  smile,  "  have  the  goodness  to  turn 
over  the  creature  on  the  f^oor.?" 

No  sooner  had  these  awful  words  fallen 
upon  the  ears  of  the  prostrate  Denis,  than, 
gathering  his  limbs  together,  he  sprang  to 
his  feet  and  made  one  wild  leap  for  an  exit. 
The  bonnet,  in  which  the  late  Mr.  Bellairs 
had  been  mourned,  fell  upon  one  side, 
revealing  a  disordered  red  head.  The 
brown  silk  mantua  was  dashed  from  broad 
shoulders. 

"O'Mara,  as  I  live!"  cried  Stafford.  "I 
knew   it !  "     And   with   a  curse,  the  like   of 

[38]  ' 


^  The  bridegroom    REJECT   M 

which  the  Abbey  walls  could  never  have 
echoed  before,  he  dashed  in  pursuit. 

"Yoicks!  Gone  away!"  cried  the  sporting 
Canon.  And  —  quite  demoralised  by  the 
unexpected  course  of  events  —  he  gathered 
up  his  robes  and  was  for  joining  in  the  run, 
when  the  little  Dean  arrested  him  with  such 
a  scandalised  hand  and  such  a  heartfelt  cry 
of  horror,  that  he  returned  to  a  sense  of  the 
proprieties  and  called  fie  upon  the  sacrilege 
and  the  disgrace  as  wrathfully  as  the  Bishop 
himself  might  have  done. 

In  the  confusion  Madame  Eglantine  dis- 
creetly vanished.  Suffocating,  Mrs.  Bellairs 
fell  upon  a  chair;  but  finding  at  least  one 
offender  ready  to  her  vengeance,  she  gave 
up  the  idea  of  a  swoon. 

"So,  /AaJ  is  your  aunt  from  Wales  .'^ "  she 
began,  and  it  was  balm  to  see  the  impreg- 
nable Lydia  for  once  bite  her  nail  and 
flounder  in  explanation,  her  consciousness  of 
guilt  in  one  direction  preventing  her  from 
exculpating  herself  where  she  was  really 
innocent.  But  the  next  instant  the  urgency 
of  the  situation  made  Mrs.  Kitty  realise  that 
she  must  defer  the  congenial  task  of  morally 
flaying  the  offending  tire-woman  to  a  more 
^  appropriate  moment,  and  meanwhile  gather 

[39] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


all  her  bright  wits  together  to  extricate  her- 
self with  honour.  She  must  be  the  first  to 
laugh  at  what  was  ridiculous,  and  turn  the 
discomfiture  of  the  bride  completely  over  to 
the  bridesfroom. 

Promptly  she  sent  the  verger  round  to 
the  church  for  Sir  Jasper  Standish,  Colonel 
Villiers,  my  Lord  Markham,  Mr.  Foulks  and 
two  or  three  other  Bath  notabilities,  and 
was  ready  to  receive  them  as  they  presented 
themselves  —  variously  condoling,  curious 
and  important  —  in  her  gayest,  most  fasci- 
nating manner. 

Very  soon  they  left  her  again  to  join  the 
rest  of  the  guests.  But  so  artfully  pregnant 
had  been  the  few  sentences  she  had  ad- 
dressed to  them  that  it  was  immediately 
made  known  to  the  eager  congregation  that 
not  only  were  they  still  expected  to  the  feast 
at  Nassau  House  (which  had  been  lent  by 
the  owner  for  this  auspicious  occasion), 
although  no  wedding  would  take  place  that 
morning  —  or,  indeed,  was  ever  likely  to 
take  place  between  Mr.  Stafford  and  Mrs. 
Bellairs  —  but  that  Mistress  Bellairs  was  in 
the  highest  spirits.  And,  in  whispers,  it 
passed  like  wildfire  from  mouth  to  car,  that, 
beyond  doubt,  the  wily  little  widow  herself 

[40] 


H  The  bridegroom    REJECT  M 

had  not  been  altogether  guiltless  of  the  hitch 
which  had  thus  disposed  of  Mr.  Stafford's 
hopes. 

"  Tell  them  I  expect  their  congratulations 
just  the  same,"  had  said  Kitty  with  her 
archest  dimple. 

It  was  a  sight  to  make  the  gods  smile 
to  see  Mr.  O'Hara,  followed  by  a  hooting 
crowd,  advance  in  kangaroo  leaps  down 
Orange  Grove  towards  the  shelter  of  Nassau 
House,  tearing  at  bodice  and  skirt  as  he 
went,  with  such  furious  fingers  that  "cook's 
best  paduasoy  "  and  the  kerchief  and  Kitty's 
little  rolled-up  stockings  soon  strewed  the 
path  of  his  flight.  Mr.  Stafford,  in  his  un- 
hindered swiftness,  promptly  caught  him  up. 

"O'Hara,  stop,  you  scoundrel!"  panted 
he,  now  at  white  heat  of  passion,  in  the 
fugitive's  ear. 

O'Hara  halted  on  the  instant  and  wheeled 
round  —  a  stranger  spectacle  than  ever,  with 
long  legs  emerging  from  Lydia's  short 
quilted  petticoat,  with  white-smeared  face 
and  feminine  coiffure  surmounting  his  own 
ruffled  shirt.  In  one  second  his  quick  eye 
ascertained  that  Kitty  was  not  in  sight  and 
he    brought    it    then    gaily    back    upon    his 

[4.] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


pursuer.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life,  per- 
haps, Mr.  Stafford  was  shaken  by  anger. 
Choking,  he  flung  out  both  arms  with  so 
menacing  a  gesture  that  O'Hara  leaped  aside 
with  an  answering  glint  in  his  own  green 
gaze  which  spelt  danger. 

"  Easy  now  !  "  cried  he.  "  From  a  gentle- 
man to  a  frentleman  !  " 

"Gentleman!"  echoed  the  other,  with 
scathing  emphasis. 

"  Well,  I  am  a  lady  no  longer,  anyhow," 
said  Denis,  leaping  out  of  the  petticoat. 

There  was  a  shout  of  mirth  from  the  fore- 
runners of  the  crowd  that  had  begun  to 
assemble  about  them. 

"  By  your  leave,  friends  ...  by  your 
leave!"  cried  a  husky  voice.  And  a  dingy- 
looking  individual,  breaking  through  the  ad- 
miring circle  at  a  hard  trot,  advanced  upon 
O'Hara  with  outstretched  hand.  He  was 
followed  by  a  panting  satellite. 

"Thunder  and  Moses!"  ejaculated  Mr. 
O'Hara,  and  flung  the  petticoat  with  a 
dexterous  movement  over  the  head  of  the 
first  sheriff's  officer,  while  with  a  thrust  of 
his  now  unhampered  leg,  he  neatly  tripped 
up  the  second.  Then,  calling  over  his 
shoulder:    "We'll    finish    our   conversation 

[42] 


^  The  bridegroom    REJECT  ^^ 

in  the  house,  Mr.  Stafford,"  was  off  at  full 
speed  again. 

With  the  assistance  of  a  pair  of  borrowed 
swords,  obligingly  supplied  by  the  major- 
domo  (for  Nash's  draconian  edict  against  the 
wearing  of  steel  within  the  liberties  of  Bath 
was  still  in  full  force),  Mr.  O'Hara  and  Mr. 
Stafford  "finished  their  conversation  "  in  the 
further  corner  of  Nassau  House  gardens. 
With  so  much  promptitude  indeed  that,  by 
the  time  the  last  group  of  guests  had  mi- 
grated from  the  Abbey  to  the  panelled  din- 
ing-room, Mr.  P'Hara's  arm  had  already  been 
neatly  bound  up  by  Mr.  Stafford  himself,  and 
the  latter  had  seen  his  first  fury  of  anger 
melt  away  with  the  running  of  his  friend's 
hot  blood. 

Now,  it  might  be  that  the  little  devils  he 
had  marked  in  Kitty's  eyes  during  that  ten 
minutes'  purgatorial  waiting  in  the  Abbey 
had  filled  the  bridegroom's  soul  with  doubt. 
It  might  be  —  as  some  of  his  friends  would 
have  it  —  that  Mr.  Stafford's  matrimonial 
intentions  had  hardly  been  more  steadfast 
than  Mistress  Bellairs'  own,  and  that  he  had 
been  as  discomfited  as  she  herself  to  see 
matters  drift  so  far  (having  proposed  to  her 

[43] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


merely  because  it  was  the  genteel  thing  for 
a  buck  of  Bath  to  be  engaged  to  "  incom- 
parable Bellairs,")  Or  it  might  be,  again, 
that  there  is  no  man  who,  when  it  comes  to 
the  point,  does  not  feel  the  nuptial  state  as 
one  su2:^estive  of  a  noose  and  himself  as 
something  of  a  victim.  At  any  rate  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  when  Beau  Stafford 
presently  sought  the  company  it  was  with  a 
front  of  unfeigned  placidity,  not  to  say  satis- 
faction—  a  satisfaction  no  whit  dimmed  by 
finding  Mistress  Bellairs  enthroned  at  the 
head  of  the  table,  more  indisputably  "  Queen 
of  Bath"  than  ever  —  not  a  man  among  her 
guests  who  did  not  hang  upon  her  least 
smile,  not  a  woman  who  did  not  fix  her  with 
eyes  of  envy. 

He  met  the  jocular  greeting  and  the  witty 
bantering,  more  or  less  pointed,  more  or  less 
broad,  of  his  friends  with  an  unmovedly 
good-humoured  eye ;  and,  demanding  the 
place  which  would  have  been  his  by  rights, 
took  seat  at  Kitty's  left  with  a  magnificent 
assurance. 

The  little  lady,  uncertain  whether  to  keep 
up  her  first  ro/e  of  resentment  towards  him, 
or  openly  to  display  the  sense  of  relief  which 
was    not    only   fairly   well-founded    but   best 

[44] 


The  bridegroom    REJECT 


calculated  to  save  her  dignity,  was  surprised 
into  quite  naturally  gracious  smiles. 

Thus  they  sat  together,  bride  that  would 
never  be  wife  of  his,  bridegroom  that  would 
never  be  her  husband.  The  situation  was 
quaint  enough  to  please  a  woman  who,  above 
all  things,  was  a  foe  to  banality  ;  who,  in  the 
heart  of  her,  could  never  resist  a  gentle- 
manly audacity,  and  who  admired  the  cour- 
age of  one  capable  of  thus  meeting  such  evil 
fortune. 

Mr.  O'Hara,  in  a  pale  blue  wedding  coat 
(provided  extempore  by  the  genial  master  of 
Nassau  House),  his  right  arm  in  a  comfort- 
able sling,  hereupon  rose  from  his  seat  and 
lifted  his  glass  in  his  left  hand. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  said  he,  the  mad 
joyousness  of  the  moment  leaping  forth  irre- 
pressibly  from  eyes  and  lips,  "  let  us,  in  all 
haste,  drink  the  health  of  her  who  still,  God 
bless  her,  remains  Kitty  Bellairs,  to  the 
hope  of  every  bachelor  heart  among  us ! 
And  (if  there  's  a  drop  to  spare)  let  us  not 
forget  our  friend  yonder  on  her  left,  who,  if 
he  's  not  the  happy  man  he  ought  to  be  —  I 
mean  he  might  have  been  —  But  there  's  a 
crumb  of  comfort  —  a  crumb  of  comfort  I 
say,  in  every  bitter  draught ■" 

[45f 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


At  this  point  the  speaker  who,  between  a 
complexity  of  emotions,  the  loss  of  some 
good  blood  and  the  gain  of  some  generous 
wine,  had  not  quite  his  usual  mastery  of 
eloquence,  was  not  sorry  to  find  his  voice 
drowned  in  general  laughter.  Then,  no 
sooner  had  the  hubbub  subsided  a  little,  than 
the  bridegroom  reject  himself,  mimicking 
with  some  humour  the  consecrated  manner 
of  the  brand-new  husband  on  such  occasions, 
claimed  the  attention  of  the  table  : 

"  Mr.  O'Hara,  sir,"  said  he,  "  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  it  is  with  a  prodigious  sense  of 
gratitude  that  I  rise  to  return  thanks  for 
myself,  and  for  my  wife  that  was  to  be  but 
IS  not 

"Nor  ever  will  be,  amen!"  put  in  the 
irrepressible  O'Hara,  and  tilted  another  glass 
to  his  lips. 

"  For  your  very  friendly  acclamations," 
pursued  Stafford  unmoved.  "  Had  that 
knot  been  tied  to-day,  which,  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  as  Mr.  O'Hara  so  feelingly 
observes,  would  have  made  me  the  happy 
man  that  I  am  not,  I  might  have  hesitated  to 
take  so  much  upon  myself  as  to  venture  to 
answer  for  her.  For  I  have  noticed,  ladies, 
that  an  accomplished  wife  generally  likes  to 

[46] 


^  The   bridegroom    REJECT  ^ 

speak  both  for  herself  and  her  husband, 
which  is  a  vastly  proper  state  of  affairs. 
Of  course,  dear  friends,  you  are  all  fully 
aware  that  I  stand  before  you  a  heart- 
broken man." 

The  delicately  ironic  tone,  the  sweet,  curl- 
ing smile  with  which  he  pronounced  these 
words,  summoned  back  all  the  little  devils  to 
Kitty's  eyes.  Her  vanity  was  beginning  to 
smart.  Was  it  possible,  could  it  be  possible, 
that  he  was  not  utterly  heart-broken  ? 

"  Nevertheless,"  resumed  Mr.  Stafford, after 
an  effective  pause,  "as  my  valued  friend  has 
just  remarked,  '  there  is  a  crumb  of  comfort 
in  every  draught.'  I  am  not,  as  a  rule,  per- 
haps, fond  of  a  crumb  in  my  cup ;  but  I  can- 
not deny  its  consolatory  presence  to-day. 
Had  I  been  made  the  happy  man  I  hoped 
to  be,  why,  I  should  now  have  nothing  left 
to  hope  for." 

The  clamour  which  had  been  oratherinor 
about  him  became  uproarious.  He  waited 
resignedly  till  he  could  make  himself  heard 
again. 

"  As  matters  have  fallen  out,"  he  con- 
cluded, "  I  can  still  blissfully  aspire  with  the 
best  of  you." 

He    turned    with    his   courtly    bow,    took 

[47] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


Kitty's  little  hand  and  raised  it  to  kiss. 
Then  he  sat  down  smiling. 

Kitty  averted  her  head  with  crimsoning 
cheeks  and  lips  fiercely  held  from  trembling 
under  proud  little  teeth. 

Under  cover  of  the  general  laughter, 
whispered  he  to  her: 

"  And  are  you  very  angry  with  me,  my 
pretty  wife  that  is  not  to  be  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  for  a  second  or  two, 
hesitatino: :  hatins^  him  for  not  beinsf  in 
greater  despair,  yet  admiring  him  exceed- 
ingly. 

"  Confess,"  he  went  on  in  tender  tones, 
"  confess,  Kitty,  you  have  never  liked  me 
half  so  well  ?  " 

"And  confess,  sir,"  said  she,  flashing, 
"  that  you  are  vastly  happier  than  if  that 
ceremony  had  taken  place." 

Her  mouth  quivered,  but  the  demons  in 
her  eyes  suddenly  vanished  as  if  they  had 
been  put  to  flight  by  a  pair  of  melting  little 
cupids. 

"  Nay,"  said  he,  "  but  when  you  look  at 
me  so,  I  can  regret  nothing." 

"  I  vow,"  she  cried  with  apparent  irrele- 
vancy after  a  long  pause,  tossing  her  head, 
"  I  must    settle  poor  dear  O'Hara's    debts: 

[48] 


^  The  bridegroom    REJECT  ^ 

'twould  be  a  thousand  shames,  after  this, 
were  he  allowed  to  spend  the  night  in  the 
sponging  house  !" 

"  By  your  leave,  madam,"  interrupted 
Stafford  quickly,  "but  I  think  I  owe  it  to 
him  to  pay  at  least  the  half." 

He  looked  at  the  triumphant  O'Hara 
with  an  unmistakable  tenderness  while  she 
tossed  her  head  and  sipped  at  her  beaker. 
Then  they  looked  at  each  other  and 
laughed.  But  Kitty's  laughter  quavered  a 
little. 


[49] 


II. 


AM    pale    to-night "— Mrs.  Bellairs, 
the  hare's-foot  poised  in  one  plump, 
dimpled  hand,  bent  forward   to    ex- 
amine her  pretty  face  in  the  mirror 
—  "A  shade  more  on  the  left,  eh,  Lydia  ? " 

"  Never  a  touch  more,  ma'am,"  decided 
the  maid,  and  from  her  mistress's  hand  un- 
ceremoniously culled  the  little  foot  that  had 
once  padded  so  blithely  over  green  turf. 

"I  vow,"  cried  the  lady,  "I'm  looking  a 
perfect  fright ! " 

"  Well,  ma'am,"  began  Lydia  sardonically, 
"  I  would  not  let  that  disturb  me,  since  you 
are  to  go  masked." 

Miss  Lydia  was  in  a  less  placid  mood 
than  usual,  and  she  was  not  one  who  could 
suppress   altogether  a  feeling  of  ill-temper. 

[so] 


GREY     DOMINO 


There  were  fresh  matrimonial  projects  float- 
ing in  the  air  of  which  she  disapproved. 
Her  position  as  confidential  maid  to  a  rich 
and  fascinating  young  widow  was  a  source  of 
so  much  profit  as  well  as  pleasure,  so  many 
discreet  guineas  as  well  as  discreet  kisses 
came  her  way  in  that  capacity,  that  she  had 
little  desire  to  change  these  conditions,  even 
for  the  sake  of  calling  her  mistress  "  My 
Lady  Countess ;  "  for  such  was  the  scheme 
that  had  come  within  the  range  of  practical 
contemplation,  since  Mrs.  Bellairs'  return 
from  Bath  to  her  town  residence  in  Mayfair. 

"Why,  girl,"  said  Kitty  Bellairs,  baulked 
of  the  compliment  she  had  the  right  to  ex- 
pect, "  we  unmask  before  supper.  Surely 
any  fool  knows  that !  " 

Lydia  tossed  her  head  and  set  out  the 
patch-box  with  a  bang. 

Kitty  sighed  languorously,  with  a  sudden 
change  of  mood,  and  flung  a  bird-like  glance 
at  Lydia's  irate  reflection  in  the  psyche  — 
a  pretty  mirror,  this :  garlanded  with  golden 
roses,  held  up  by  peeping  cupids,  meet,  in- 
deed, to  receive  so  coquettish  an  image 
as  that  of  "  incomparable  Bellairs,"  as  the 
widow  had  been  dubbed  at  Bath  by  one  of 
its  noted  sparks. 

[5-] 


^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^I 

"Ah!  child,"  said  the  lady,  "happy  you, 
who  will  never  know  the  troubles  and  anx- 
ieties with  which  a  lonely  woman  has  to 
meet  in  the  great  fashionable  world  !  "  Lydia 
sniffed.  "  I  want  a  protector  sadly,  my  good 
girl.  (There 's  that  quilted  petticoat  .  .  . 
and  the  square  of  Mechlin  with  the  hole  in 
it,  where  young  my  Lord  Verney,  oaf  as  he 
is,  trod  on  my  skirts  in  the  Pump  Room. 
'T  is  a  beautiful  bit  of  lace ;  you  can  have  it 
for  yourself.  'Twill  make  you  very  fine 
among  the  other  tire-women.)  Ah!  'tis  a 
weighty  decision.  My  heart  is  all  of  a  flut- 
ter. .  .  .   Give  me  a  thimbleful  of  ratafia." 

Miss  Lydia  poured  out  the  desired  restora- 
tive in  the  same  disapproving  silence. 

"  Take  some  yourself,  child." 

"  No,  thank  you,  ma'am."  Ratafia  had 
long  ceased  to  be  a  treat  to  Lydia:  famil- 
iarity breeds  contempt.  "  It 's  apt  to  make 
the  nose  red,  ma'am." 

The  lady  put  down  her  half-sipped  glass, 
flung  an  anxious  glance  upon  her  pearly 
nose  tip  in  the  mirror,  and  then  broke  into 
justifiable  rage : 

"  How  dare  you,  miss  ?  Go  to  the  devil, 
you  ungrateful,  unpleasant  girl !  " 

"  La!  ma'am,  he  would  not  have  me  as  a 


GREY     DOMINO 


present;  neither  me  nor  you,  for  all  he 
comes  so  often  here." 

"  What  in  Heaven's  name  do  you  mean, 
Lydia  ? " 

"It  don't  seem  as  if  Heaven  could  ever 
have  had  anything  to  say  to  it,  ma'am,  one 
way  or  another." 

"  Gracious  power,  the  creature  will  drive 
me  mad !  Who  is  it  wants  neither  you  or 
me?  And  what  is  it  Heaven  can  have 
nothing  to  do  with  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  devil,  ma'am,  or  the  nearest 
approach  to  him  that  walks  London  this 
moment,  meaning  my  Lord  Mandeville. 
His  heart 's  not  really  in  it,  nor  ever  will  be. 
And  if  Heaven  has  anything  to  say  to  him, 
why,   I  am   willing  to " 

"Lydia!"  cried  Mistress  Kitty,  in  a  fury. 
Then  she  seized  the  first  missile  to  her 
hand  and  flung  it  at  the  girl's  head.  Lydia 
dodged  with  the  adroitness  acquired  by  long 
habit ;  calmly  picked  up  the  silver  curling 
tongs  and  began  to  ply  them  mechanically, 
as  she  surveyed  her  mistress  with  disapprov- 
ing eyes. 

Kitty  had  turned  back  to  her  mirror, 
and  now  set  her  small  teeth  in  a  smile  of 
defiance. 

[53] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS^ 


"  My  Lord  Mandeville  not  want  Kitty 
Bellairs  !  We  shall  see  !  "  The  little  fierce 
smile  broadened  into  triumph.  "  We  shall 
see ! " 

Presently  the  eyes  swam  back  into  the 
languor  that  had  provoked  Miss  Lydia, 
and  the  widow  pondered.  Lydia  broke  the 
silence  by  observing  in  a  detached  manner: 
"  There  are  several  gentlemen  sitting  waiting 
in  the  blue  room." 

"  Already  ! "  Mistress  Bellairs  snatched 
at  her  jewelled  watch  and  fell  into  a  fresh 
flutter. 

"  Good  Gracious,  woman,  do  you  know  the 
time,  and  how  long  'twill  take  me  to  drive 
from  Mayfair  to  Elm  Park  House  with  the 
roads  a  foot  in  mud  ?  Come  here,  you 
gaby !  Put  the  Paris  knot  on  the  left !  .  .  . 
That  curl's  too  long!  The  patches  now  — 
quick !  Where  is  the  box  ?  Call  yourself 
a  tire-woman  !  " 

The  prettiest  fingers  in  Bath  —  which 
some  who  passed  as  judges  now  swore  were 
the  prettiest  fingers  in  London — groped 
for  the  silver  and  tortoiseshcll  box.  One 
charming  digit,  with  a  black  star  on  its  tip, 
hovered  tentatively  round  the  dainty  face. 
It  was  a  critical  moment:  even  Lydia  held 

[54] 


GREY     DOMINO 


her  breath.     But  the  little  hand-fell  back  into 
the  silken  lap,  its  mission  unaccomplished. 

"  Is  Mr.  Stafford  amon^  these  gentle- 
men.''"  she  asked  suddenly,  turning  her 
eyes  all  weighted  with  anxiety,  towards 
Lydia. 

"  Mr.  Stafford,  Mr.  O'Hara,  Sir  George 
Payne  —  in  scarlet,  ma'am  —  and  Mr.  Mild- 
may —  in  sky-blue,"  responded  the  latter 
glibly. 

There  was  quite  a  jingle  as  Lydia  frisked 
round ;  four  guineas  at  that  moment  were 
keeping  snug  company  in  her  inner  hang- 
ing  pocket. 

To  the  credit  of  these  modish  orentle- 
men  (m  whose  number  she  felt  safety) 
there  was  also  printed  in  Lydia  s  memory 
tablets  a  very  pretty  compliment  from  Mr. 
Stafford,  w^ho  had  the  art  of  neatly  placing 
these  assets,  and  a  kiss  or  two  from  Mr. 
O'Hara  (really,  she  had  had  to  box  his  ears). 
As  for  the  other  two  gentlemen  they  were 
obviously  new  to  it.  But  one  principle  she 
had  made  clear  to  their  inexperience,  to  wit 
that  he  who  would  sit  in  the  lavender 
parlour  (next  to  the  young  widow  Bellairs' 
dressing-room  door)  must  know  how  to  pay 
for  such  privilege. 

[55] 


^^INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS^I 

"Tom  Stafford!"  ejaculated  the  widow. 
"  He  is  positively  the  only  man  who  knows 
how  to  pitch  a  patch.  Admit  him,  instantly, 
instantly !  "  She  drew  her  silken  wrapper 
over  the  falling  laces  upon  her  bosom  ;  then 
on  further  thought:  "And  Mr.  O'Hara, 
too,"  she  added,  "  the  dear  creature  has 
taste." 

"  And  Sir  George  ? "  queried  Lydia,  her 
hand  on  the  door  knob. 

"  Sir  George  !  Did  you  not  say  the  zany 
was  in  scarlet!  I  marvel  at  you,  Lydia  — 
and   I  in  rose-pink!  " 

"  Mr.  Mildmay  }  " 

"  Let  him  languish  !  " 

Lydia  went  forth  with  alacrity:  —  "Mrs. 
Bellairs  will  see  Mr.  Stafford  and  Mr. 
O'Hara,  if  they  will  be  kind  enough  to 
step  this  way,"  said  she  with  a  cherry-mouth 
to  the  waiting  clients.  How  demure  was 
Lydia !  "  Yes,  Sir  George,  I  did  inform  my 
mistress  of  your  presence  —  Yes,  Mr.  Mild- 
may,  sir,  I  '11  mention  it  again  by-and-by.  At 
least,  if  I  get  the  chance.  I  '11  do  my  best, 
Sir  George.     This  way,  please." 

Mr.  O'Hara  and  Mr.  Stafford,  faithful 
adorers,  knew  the  way  well  enough.  Kitty's 
pink-hung,  becupided,  bccushioned  sanctum 

[56] 


GREY     DOMINO 


with  its  atmosphere  of  Parma-powder  and 
flowers  —  the  fragrance  of  a  pretty  woman's 
dainty  vanities  —  was  deliciously  famihar  to 
both.  Mr.  Stafford  inhaled  it  like  a  con- 
noisseur. O'Hara  drew  audibly  a  passionate 
breath  of  rapture. 

"  Glory  be  to  God,  Kitty,"  he  cried,  "  but 
it 's  the  beauty  of  the  summer  dawn  you  've 
got  this  winter  night!" 

He  seized  his  beloved's  right  hand,  and 
there  could  be  no  mistake  about  the  fact 
that  he  saluted  it. 

"  A  rose !  "  exclaimed  Stafford,  advancing 
with  short,  dainty  steps  to  bow  over  the 
lady's  left  wrist,  negligently  extended  in  his 
direction,  and  touch  it  with  a  butterfly  kiss. 
"A  rose.?  —  a  hundred  roses,  a  heaven  of 
roses ! " 

Kitty  shifted  velvet  eyes  for  a  second  from 
the  contemplation  of  her  image  in  the  mirror 
to  that  of  her  handsome  swains  as  they  ap- 
peared over  her  shoulders.  A  little  shiver 
of  pleasure  passed  over  her  person  as  she 
dropped  her  glance  back  to  her  own  reflec- 
tion. She  coquetted  with  it  for  a  second 
or  two,  drawing  up  a  pretty  throat,  tilting  an 
impudent  chin,  sweeping  long  black  lashes 
downwards    to    peep    through    them   as  she 

[57] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


slowly  moved  her  head  from  one  side  to  the 
other. 

"  Oho,  Tom,  my  boy ! "  cried  O'Hara, 
"  and  when  did  you  ever  see  a  rose  with 
such  a  pair  of  eyes  ? " 

"  And  when  did  a  cold,  empty  sky  wear 
such  a  smile  ?  "  retorted  Stafford  in  a  light 
tone  that  contrasted  with  the  Irishman's 
fervour. 

"Come,  come!"  cried  Kitty  briskly;  "do 
you  think  I  have  time  to-night  for  this  sort 
of  thing?  You've  been  admitted  on  busi- 
ness, my  friends.  Now,  Stafford,  what  say 
you"  —  lifting  up  the  patch  again  —  "shall 
it  be  under  the  left  eye  ?  O'Hara,  keep 
quiet,  or  out  you  must  go !  " 

Mr.  Stafford  sat  down  on  a  gilt-leg  stool 
and  worked  it  forward  very  respectfully  to 
as  close  proximity  as  circumstances  would 
allow;  then,  folding  his  arms,  he  threw  a 
deep  air  of  gravity  into  his  looks  as  he  con- 
templated the  visage  which  the  widow  turned 
with  equal  seriousness  for  his  inspection. 

There  was  a  moment  of  throbbing  silence, 
while  O'Hara  gnashed  his  teeth.  Presently 
the  oracle  delivered  itself. 

"  Such  eyes  as  yours,  dear  Kitty,"  he  said 
in  his  soft,  well-bred  voice,  "  need  no  finger- 

[58] 


GREY     DOMINO 


post  to  draw  attention  to  them.  They  are 
beacons  that  claim  instant  admiration  by 
their  own  flame."  ("  Ah,  now !  listen  to 
him!  Talk  of  my  metaphors!"  muttered 
O'Hara.)  "But  the  dimple  that  comes  with 
your   heavenly    smile    and    goes    with    your 

—  your   gentle    melancholy " — (Lydia 

sniffed)  —  "that  dimple,  Kitty,  which  peeps 
and  vanishes  like  a  star  in  our  night,  it 
would  not  be  amiss  to  make  the  world  mind- 
ful of  it.  As  who  should  look  and  read: 
ad  astra  !  " 

Kitty  turned  eagerly  back  to  the  glass. 
"  Perhaps  you  are  right,"  said  she. 

Stafford  half  rose  from  his  seat. 

"  Stay,  too  low!  —  too  high  !  Oh,  Kitty, 
have  a  care  —  nay,  this  frown  will  never  do; 
I  must  see  a  smile,  or  I  cannot  guide.  Stop, 
stop !  "     He  laid  his  hand  over  hers. 

A  sudden  vision  in  the  glass  of  O'Hara's 
countenance  behind  her,  lowering  under  his 
powdered  red  hair  —  and  the  desired  smile 
flashed  on  the  lady's  lips. 

"  Now  !  "  cried  Stafford. 

He  shot  out  a  long  finger,  and  gently  but 
firmly  pressed  its  tip  just  by  the  side  of  the 
dimple.  When  he  withdrew  it,  Kitty  smiled 
again. 

[59] 


^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRSi! 

"  A  stroke  of  genius,"  said  she. 

And  Stafford,  stepping  back  and  contem- 
plating her  with  his  head  on  one  side,  as- 
sented in  satisfied  tones  :  "  I  have  been 
heaven-inspired." 

Mr.  O'Hara's  comment,  which  placed  Mr. 
Stafford's  proper  habitation  in  quite  another 
region  and  further  expressed  a  desire  to 
hasten  his  home-going,  passed  unheeded  by 
the  two  consultants. 

"  Now  for  the  domino  !  "  cried  Mistress 
Bel  lairs  gaily,  preparing  to  rise. 

"  Nay,  nay!"  exclaimed  Stafford,  arresting 
her.  "  Two  are  the  mode  of  the  Town,  this 
year,  Kitty." 

"  Two,  the  mode  ?  "  echoed  she. 

"  Aye,  surely.  One  patch  on  the  face, 
dearest  Bellairs,  and  one  on  the  throat  —  for 
whomsoever  has  a  handsome  shoulder.  It 
has  been  the  rage  ever  since  Miss  Rachel 
Peace,  of  Sadler's  Wells,  appeared  last  month 
in  the  '  Stratagem,'  and  Lord  Mandeville 
swore  out  loud,  in  my  Lady  Trefusis's  box, 
that  she  had  the  fairest  shoulders " 

Kitty  started  as  if  the  words  had  covered 
a  little  stab.  Miss  Lydia  turned  round  with 
an  interested  air. 

"  And  has    this    Rachel    Peace,    in    your 

[60] 


GREY     DOMINO 


opinion,  my  good  man,  anything  so  wonder- 
ful about  her  ?  A  pasty  baggage,  I  thought 
her  —  and  thin  in  the  collar-bone.  .  .  . 
Where  did  she  wear  that  patch  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Kitty,"  said  Stafford,  with  his  pleas- 
ant laugh,  "ask  me  not  about  Rachel  Peace, 
for  I  vow,  whatever  I  have  seen  of  other 
women,  I  forget  to-night.  I  could  not  tell 
you  the  exact  spot  where  Miss  Rachel  Peace 
wore  the  patch  ;  but,  methinks,  I  could  de- 
cide where  it  best  would  become  Mistress 
Kitty,  so  that  he  who  saw  it  will  carry  the 
memory  of  it  to  his  grave." 

"  Well,  be  quick  !  "  snapped  she. 

He  pushed  back  his  chair  a  pace  or  two, 
and  surveyed  her  critically. 

The  unwonted  excitement  which  possessed 
Mrs.  Bellairs,  that  usually  self-satisfied  little 
lady,  this  evening,  had  brought  fresh  sparkles 
to  her  eye  and  a  flush  to  her  cheek  that 
shamed  its  rouge.  Beneath  the  folded  laces, 
the  fair  bosom  was  heavin^  with  shortened 

O 

breath. 

It  may  be  that  Mr.  Stafford  prolonged  his 
contemplation  a  few  seconds  longer  than  was 
required.  It  was  a  talent  of  this  mercurial 
gentleman  to  seem  most  respectful  where  he 
was  most  audacious :  so  that  things  were  per- 

[6.] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


mitted  to  him  with  smiles  that  micjht  have 
been  denied  with  frowns.  He  delivered 
judgment: 

"  Here,  where  runs  that  little  vein,  azure 
rivulet  through  a  fair  field  of  snow  —  where 
the  lovely  shoulder  falls  into  this  little  valley, 
planned  by  Cupid  himself  under  Venus'  own 
eyes  —  where " 

"  That  will  serve,  sir,"  said  Kitty,  whisk- 
ing round  and,  with  the  unerring  swoop  of 
genius,  planting  a  dainty  black  star  in  the 
faint  curve  of  the  white  shoulder  thus  poeti- 
cally indicated.  Then  she  turned  again  to 
flash  her  triumph  at  Stafford. 

He  clapped  his  hands,  half  with  that 
mockery  that  never  left  him,  half  in  genu- 
ine admiration  : 

"  Perfect !  the  last  touch  !  Ah,  't  is  rightly 
named  :  L' assassme  !  " 

'' L' assassme  r'  She  caught  the  word 
with  a  happy  laugh,  and  then,  her  eye  once 
again  on  her  mirror,  regarded  the  effect  of 
the  patch  musingly. 

"  Why,  madam,"  said  Stafford,  with  a 
sudden  dry  gravity,  "  and  pray  what  fresh 
assassination  are  you  plotting  for  to-night.?  " 

Mr.  O'Hara  had  been  no  unmoved  witness 
of  these  delicate  proceedings.     Only  a  ripe 

[62] 


GREY     DOMINO 


experience  of  her  temper,  when  interfered 
with,  had  prevented  him  a  score  of  times 
from  flinging  himself  between  his  privileged 
rival  and  the  complacent  lady.  His  dumb 
show  of  fury,  the  clenched  hand  thrust  out 
and  withdrawn,  the  mute  apostrophising  of 
Kitty,  the  mute  cursing  of  his  friend,  had, 
how^ever,  somewhat  relieved  his  overcharged 
feelinos  while  affordino;  much  amusement  to 
Lydia.  Now,  however,  he  deemed  the  time 
come  to  recall  his  personality  to  the  widow's 
fickle  mind. 

"  By  me  soul,"  he  cried,  running  forward 
and  flinging  himself  on  his  knees,  "  if  it 's 
assassination  she  wants,  I  'm  ready  for  her. 
Sure  she 's  done  me  to  death  a  thousand 
times,  but  here  's  a  heart  that  will  be  ready 
to  die  again  as  often  as  she  pleases." 

Kitty  cast  a  glance  of  good-humoured 
scorn  on  the  gay,  reckless  face  upturned  to 
the  light.  In  spite  of  its  gaiety  and  reck- 
lessness, there  was  passion  in  the  red-brown 
eye,  a  mad  passion  which  gratified  her  — 
little  as  she  now  thought  of  gratifying  it. 
Her  glance  shifted  quickly  back  to  Stafford's 
countenance. 

"  I  cannot  say,"  this  gentleman  was  stat- 
ing, "  like  our  volatile  friend,  that  I  am  ready 

[6j] 


^illNCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRSil 

to  die  more  than  once.  But,  as  Mistress 
Bellairs  has  the  keeping  of  my  heart,  she 
knows  that  it  is  hers  to  break  once  and  for 
ever,  should  she  so  please." 

Looking  on  him,  Kitty  considered.  Was 
that  cold  grey  gaze  of  his  capable  of  one 
spark  of  real  emotion  ?  Should  she  ever 
bring  this  slippery,  polished  courtier  in  true 
earnest  to  her  feet? 

It  certainly  was  to  her  credit  that  Kitty's 
discarded  bridegrooms  should  immediately 
have  resumed  their  posts  as  adorers,  with- 
out loss,  it  seemed,  of  faith,  hope  or  charity 
in  their  capricious  goddess.  But  with  a 
return  to  London  life,  Kitty's  horizons  and 
ambitions  had  been  widening.  She  nibbled 
her  little  finger  pensively,  then  flung  out 
both  her  hands. 

"And  are  ye  men  of  sport,  and  would 
you  have  me  strike  again  what 's  dead 
already,  O'Hara.?  —  or  slay  what's  tame, 
Stafford.?     Oh,  fie!" 

"Denis,  my  lad,  up  with  you!"  cried 
Stafford  with  his  jovial  laugh,  striking  the 
kneeling  O'Hara  on  the  shoulder.  "Our 
Kitty  has  higher  game  for  her  pretty  bow 
and  arrow  than  out-of-pocket  you  or  humble 
untitled  me." 

[64] 


GREY     DOMINO 


The  dimple  peeped  in  Kitty's  cheek ;  she 
kicked  off  a  tiny  Spanish   slipper. 

"  My  shoes,  Lydia,"  she  commanded, 
unconcerned. 

The  Honourable  Denis  made  a  wild  plunge 
on  all  fours  to  snatch  the  dainty  objects  from 
Lydia's  hands  and  have  the  placing  of  them 
upon  the  little  foot  in  its  pink  silk  stocking, 
of  which  he  had  had  a  brief,  entrancing 
vision.  But  Mistress  Bellairs  thwarted  him 
by  a  dexterous  movement.  And  as  she  rose, 
duly  shod,  clapping  her  heels  with  a  con- 
quering air,  O'Hara,  still  squatting  on  the 
floor,  fell  back  upon  the  consolation  of  rap- 
turously kissing  a  discarded  slipper. 

Over  a  dress  of  tiffany  embroidered  with 
roses,  of  a  splendour  that  baffled  description, 
the  lady  now  slipped  on  a  dream  of  a 
domino,  all  rosy  satin  and  fragrant  lace  ;  and 
while  Lydia  spread  out  the  great  hood  before 
delicately  drawing  it  over  the  high-massed 
powdered  curls.  Mistress  Bellairs  was  fain 
to  shoot  another  glance  of  sweet  vanity  at 
Mr.  Stafford — -just  to  read  in  his  eyes  how 
entrancing  she  looked. 

But  he  shook  his  head  at  her.  "  I  am 
sorry  for  you,  my  dear !  " 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  that,  sir  ?  " 

s  [65] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


"  Only,  my  dearest  life,  to  see  so  fair  a 
huntress  bent  on  so  bootless  a  chase!" 

Here  Lydia's  sniff  was  fraught  with  so 
much  meaning  that,  in  a  double  fury,  Mis- 
tress Kitty  wrenched  herself  loose  from  her 
woman's  hands  and  stamped  her  foot  at 
Mr.  Stafford. 

"You  are  monstrous  impertinent,  sir  — 
and,  besides,  monstrous  ignorant  of  what  you 
are  talking  about !  " 

"  Madam,  his  lordship  is  still  the  willing 
prize  of  another  bow  .  .  .  Kitty,  Kitty,  you 
will  point  your  little  arrows  in  vain,  for 
once." 

The  more  serious  turn  the  conversation 
had  taken  had  arrested  Mr.  O'Hara's  atten- 
tion. He  dropped  the  slipper  he  had  been 
melodramatically  apostrophising  and  began 
to  listen  with  a  serious  countenance. 

"  I  '11  have  you  know,  dear  Kitty,"  pursued 
Mr.  Stafford  in  his  gentle  tone,  "  that  this 
same  Mandeville  is  bound  hand  and  foot, 
heart  and  purse,  to  one  Rachel  Peace  — 
whilom  Ouaker,  now  fair  rcneofade  and  actress 
at  Sadler's  Wells,  and  a  pretty  piece  likewise 
—  pardon  the  quip!  He's  mad  in  love. 
Mad  jealous  too.  He  '11  beat  a  man  if  he 
applaud  her  not   enough,  and  he  '11    beat  a 

[66] 


GREY     DOMINO 


man  if  he  applaud  her  too  well  —  Egad,  I 
believe,  did  she  but  know  how  to  play  her 
cards,  she'd  be  his  countess  yet!" 

Kitty  gave  a  start  —  her  face  contracted  by 
a  spasm  of  fury.  But,  quickly  restraining 
herself,  she  shrugged  her  shoulders  with  a 
smile  as  of  one  who  disdains  to  argue,  picked 
up  her  mask  from  the  table  and  feigned  a 
mighty  interest  in  the  glow  of  her  eyes  be- 
hind it  in  the  glass. 

Lydia,  who  had  listened  with  malicious 
approval  to  Mr.  Stafford's  discourse,  received 
his  last  remark  with  a  cough  and  an  involun- 
tary shake  of  the  head.  "  Lud,  but  these  fine 
gentlemen  be  fools  !  "  she  thought.  "  He 
wants  to  put  my  mistress  off,  and  sets  her 
on  with  as  good  as  tally-ho ! " 

But  Mr.  Stafford  went  on.  He  was,  per- 
haps, not  such  a  fool  as  the  worldly-wise 
Lydia  believed  ;  he  perhaps  found  pleasure 
of  a  sort  in  this  delicate  baitinor  of  one  who 
had  baited  him  so  lonQ-. 

"  And,  sweet  Kitty,  I  '11  have  you  know 
that  when  a  man  is  as  far  gone  in  love  as 
this  same  Mandeville,  any  other  woman,  be 
she  as  fair  as  Venus,  is  no  more  to  him  than 
the  veriest  hag." 

There  are  limits  to  the  endurance  even  of 

[67] 


illNCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^ 

a  pretty  woman's  pride.  That  Kitty  Bellairs 
should  live  to  be  told,  by  a  man,  that,  by  any 
possibility,  she 

"  And  I  '11  have  you  know,  sir  —  you  who 
think  yourself  so  well  posted  in  the  news  of 
the  Town  —  that  my  Lord  Mandeville  and 
Mistress  Peace  have  not  been  on  speaking 
terms  these  ten  days,  and  that  his  lordship 
has  been  courting  me  steadily  these  six.  I  '11 
have  you  know,  sir,  that  his  lordship  is  in  sad 
need  of  fortune,  in  sad  need  of  settled  life ; 
in  fine,  sir,  of  such  a  wife  as  your  humble 
servant;  and  that  this  masked  ball,  which 
you  are  pleased  to-night  to  grace  with  your 
company,  is  given,  sir,  by  his  lordship's  sister, 
Lady  Flo,  in  honour  of  Mistress  Bellairs,"  — 
the  lady's  flowery  silks  and  satins  billowed 
round  her  as  she  swept  an  annihilating  curt- 
sey —  "  and  I  '11  have  you  know,  sir,  that  this 
same  masque,  in  my  honour,  is  to  no  other 
end  than  that  his  lordship  may  finally  con- 
clude matters  with  a  lady  of  his  own  world, 
worthier  of  his  attentions  than  this  play- 
actress.  My  Lord  Mandeville  commissioned 
his  sister  to  find  him  beauty,  and  money, 
and  wit,  sir.  I  leave  it  to  you  to  say  if  she 
has  succeeded." 

"  'Pon    my  soul  ! "    interrupted    the    Irish 

[68] 


GREY     DOMINO 


gentleman,  with  sudden  explosion.  "  He  '11 
be  content  with  no  less !  It 's  the  devil's 
own  impudence  he  's  got !  A  carrot-headed, 
empty-pursed  rake  of  a  fellow,  with  the  tenv 
per  of  old  Nick,  if  all  accounts  be  true  !  " 

"  If  you  say  another  word,  O'Hara,"  said 
Kitty  summarily,  over  her  shoulder,  "  Lydia 
will  show  you  the  door."  Silence  fell  on  the 
instant,  and  Kitty  flounced  her  triumph  upon 
the  real  offender.  "So,  sir,"  she  resumed, 
"  you  see." 

"  Beauty,  money  —  and  wit,"  repeated  he, 
in  a  kind  of  muse. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Stafford,"  affirmed  Kitty,  with 
a  smile  and  a  wriggle  ;  "  and  my  Lady  Flora 
could  think  of  no  one  better." 

"  Indeed,"  said  he,  "  I  am  not  surprised." 
His  voice  and  look  were  so  silky-soft  that 
Mistress  Bellairs  deemed  him  completely 
vanquished  and,  womanlike,  proceeded  to 
roll  the  prostrate  foe  in  the  dust. 

"And  so,  my  good  friend,  you  need  no 
longer  fear  for  me  a  bootless  chase,  for  the 
quarry  is  to  my  hand  to  lay  low,  if  I  please. 
And  I  myself  have  chosen  the  form  of  enter- 
tainment for  to-night,  for  it  is  my  pleasure 
to  give  his  lordship  further  proof  of  my  wit 
behind  the   mask  before   permitting  him  to 

.  [69] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^ 


claim  as  his  own — well,  what  you  think,  sir, 
will  seem  no  better  to  him  than  that  of  the 
veriest  hag." 

Now  Mr.  Stafford  sighed  and  Mistress 
Kitty  broke  off.  There  was  something  dis- 
concerting about  his  air.  She  looked  sharp 
inquiry  at  him. 

"  Let  us  go,  my  dearest  madam,"  he  said 
in  a  melancholy  tone. 

"  You  '11  drive  me  mad,"  said  she. 

"  What  is  it  now  ?  My  coach  has  been 
waiting  this  hour  to  escort  yours."  Again 
she  stamped  her  foot.  "  You  have  my  most 
earnest  wishes,"  said  he,  turning  up  his  eyes 
and  sighing  once  more. 

"  Mr.  Stafford,"  she  stormed,  "  I  '11  have 
your  meaning,  for  this  is  more  than  I  can 
endure." 

"  My  Lord  Mandeville  will  be  waiting  in 
vain  for  beauty,  wit,  and  money."  She 
caught  him  by  the  wrist  and  shook  him. 
Then  he  fixed  his  eyes  upon  her  for  the 
first  time  that  evening  bereft  of  their  danc- 
ing mockery.  "  Kitty,"  said  he,  "  you  left 
one  thing  out  of  your  calculations." 

"  And  pray  what  may  that  be  ?  " 

"  You  've  never  really  known  anything  of 
it   yet,    though    I    vow   you  've    seen    it    oft 

[70] 


GREY     DOMINO 


enough  ;  and  't  is  something,  my  dear,  that, 

when    once  you   know  it,  you  '11  let  all   the 

world  go  by,  just  for  the  sake  of  it.     Lord 

Mandeville  knows  it,  and  that  is  why,  for  all 

your  wit  and  all   your  beauty  and  all  your 

money,  you  '11  not  meet  your  match  in  him." 

Kitty  drew  back,  her  lips  curling  in  scorn. 

"  And  this  marvellous  something.'^  " 

"  'T  is  but  Love;  my  dear  lady." 

She  had  known  what  he  was  going  to  say. 

And  yet  it  enraged  her  when  he  had  said  it. 


And  so  did  the  groan  with  which  O'Hara 
echoed  the  word. 

"  My  pelisse,  Lydia ! "  she  cried  sharply. 
"  My  fan,  girl.  I  verily  believe  I  shall  turn 
lunatic  myself,  if  I  listen  to  these  lunatics 
a  moment  longer.     Call  up  the  footmen  !  " 

Yet,  as  Mr.  Stafford  was,  facile  princeps, 
one  of  the  finest  beaux  in  town,  she  was  fain 
to  accept  his  hand  as  far  as  the  coach ;  were 
it  only  for  the  effect  upon  the  gentlemen 
hopelessly  waiting  in  the  ante-room. 

Mr.  O'Hara  caught  the  maid  by  the  arm 
as  she  would  have  followed  her  mistress. 

"  By  heaven,  this  is  bad  news  for  me ! 
And  since  when,  Lydia,  has  your  divine 
mistress  fixed  her  heart  upon  that  devil.?" 

"  Her  heart !  "  sneered  Lydia,  and   tossed 

[7>] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^ 


her  head,  she  being  of  Mr.  Stafford's  opinion 
on  the  matter. 

"  Lydia,  me  darling,  if  that  Mandeville 
comes  here  after  her,  think  of  me  and  poison 
his  tea  for  him,  and  I  '11  give  you  the  finest 
diamond  necklace  in  the  world  —  if  I  have  to 
go  to  the  road  for  it." 

He  was  desperately  in  earnest.  There  were 
beads  of  anguish  on  his  brow  and  a  grey 
pallor  upon  his  gallant  comeliness.  Yet,  as 
he  slid  his  arm  imploringly  round  the  girl's 
waist,  and  felt  how  slim  and  trim  it  was,  he 
could  not  help  giving  it  a  tender  squeeze, 
for  its  own  sake. 

"Get  along  with  you!"  cried  Lydia,  with 
a  vigorous  push,  which  landed  him  on  the 
other  side  of  the  door. 

Left  alone,  she  stood  in  deep  reflection. 
Then  she  shook  herself,  and  began  folding 
and  putting  away  her  mistress's  garments 
with  sharp  movements  which  betrayed  much 
inner  irritation.     All  at  once  she  paused. 

A  large  pictorial  card  of  invitation,  ele- 
gantly engraved  by  Mr.  Bartolozzi,  request- 
ing Mrs.  Bellairs'  presence  at  Lady  Flora 
Dare-Stamer's  mansion  at  Elm  Park  that 
evening,  caught  her  attention. 

"  La !  she  's  forgotten  the  ticket." 

[7i] 


^  GREY     DOMINO  ^ 

As  she  spoke  the  word,  half  aloud,  a 
sudden  gleam  leapt  into  her  eye,  succeeded 
by  a  slow,  malicious  smile. 

Lydia  nodded  her  head,  as  if  in  answer 
to  some  inner  suggestion  ;  and,  slipping  the 
card  into  the  bosom  of  her  2:own  and,  snatch- 
mg  a  cloak,  straightway  left  the  house. 


"  Though  your  lordship  does  not  dance,  I 
trust  he  sups,"  said  the  little  pink  domino. 

Lord  Mandeville,  lying  back  so  languidly 
on  the  settee  that  his  head  reposed  on  the 
back  of  it  and  his  legs  stretched  to  quite 
insolent  length  before  him,  turned  a  lazy  eye 
upon  the  small  rosy  mask  who  sat  very 
upright  by  his  side. 

These  two  had  drawn  apart  into  a  deserted 
boudoir  and,  through  wide-open  double 
doors,  looked  forth  on  the  brilliant  throng, 
ever  shifting  with  ever  changing  effect  in 
the  great  ball-room  beyond.  Out  there,  all 
was  noise  with  music  and  high  voices  and 
laughter,  all  was  movement,  white  light  and 
flashing  colour.  Here  within,  there  was  a 
padded  stillness,  an  artful  pink-wax  dimness 
—  a  small  silence,  just  for  two. 

Lord   Mandeville  yawned  without  taking 

[7J] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


the  trouble  to  raise  the  large  white  hand 
that  lay  inert  upon  his  knees.  ("  Not  even 
O'Hara,"  thought  Mistress  Kitty,  ''  has  better 
teeth ;  not  even  Stafford  has  a  better  leg ! ") 
And  that  languid  eye  of  his  roamed  from  the 
tip  of  a  pink  shoe  artfully  peeping,  to  vi^here 
the  parting  folds  of  the  pink  domino  first  be- 
trayed an  entrancing  vision  of  the  fall  of  an 
exquisite  waistline  and  next  the  rise  of  a  still 
more  exquisite  bosom,  a  pearly  peep  of 
which  was  triumphantly  ridden  by  a  tiny 
black  star. 

Resting  his  gaze  at  leisure  on  the  round, 
saucy  chin,  just  clear  of  the  hanging  lace  of 
the  mask,  his  lordship  drawled  at  length  : 

"  I  don't  mind  supping,  if  you  sit  beside 
me,  rosy  unknown." 

Here  he  lifted  one  of  his  inert  hands  with 
so  indifferent  a  gesture  that  Kitty  was  quite 
surprised  to  find  it,  next,  clasping  her  waist 
—  and  pretty  tightly  too.  Her  heart  gave 
a  leap.  Did  he  guess  .  .  .  ?  Bah !  Men 
were  all  alike!  Diseno:a<>in<j:  herself,  she 
remarked  with  sudden  asperity : 

"Keep  yourself  under  control,  my  lord,  or 
we  shall  quarrel." 

He  raised  his  sandy  eyebrows  a  fraction 
higher  than  nature  had  already  drawn  them, 

[74] 


GREY     DOMINO 


and  slipped  the  rebuked  hand  contentedly 
into  the  pocket  of  his  embroidered  waistcoat 

"  I  quarrel  ?  'T  is  vastly  too  much 
trouble.     I  'm  the  most  peaceable  man  alive." 

"  Oh,  all  the  world  knows,"  cried  the  pink 
domino  —  and  through  her  mask  her  black 
eyes  stabbed  him  like  fine  stilettos  —  "that 
your  lordship  is  notoriously  a  lover  of  peace." 

For  a  second,  between  his  drooping  lids, 
there  shot  at  her,  as  it  were,  the  gleam  of 
a  blade,  before  which  her  own  small  weap- 
ons were  but  toys.  Half  way  up  the  pallor 
of  his  cheek  there  crept  a  hesitating,  sullen 
flush,  but  the  next  instant  light  and  glow  had 
faded  again,  and  his  countenance  was  once 
more  that  empty  mask  of  manhood  which  so 
few  had  ever  seen  animated.  His  waistcoat 
shook  over  a  faint  chuckle  which  found  no 
expression  on  his  lips. 

"When  I  find  somethino:  better  than 
peace,  I  may  love  it  dearer." 

"  Oh,  vastly  well ! "  cried  Kitty  with  an 
angry  titter  —  not  so  easy  to  manage,  this 
man,  after  all ;  he  must  be  stirred  from  his 
contemptuous  ease,  at  any  cost! — "And 
sure  none  of  your  lordship's  well-wishers 
would  object,  I  'm  told,  were  it  only  .  .  . 
peace  and  honour!" 

[75] 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS 


Lord  Mandeville  shifted  himself  in  his 
seat,  so  as  to  bring  his  full  indifferent  eye 
straight  upon  the  mask. 

"  Honour  is  a  monstrous  big  word  on  little 
lips,"  said  he,  without  this  time  betraying  the 
smallest  emotion.  "But  most  of  you  fine 
ladies,  I  vow,  know  not  even  how  to  spell  it." 

"  Alas,  my  lord,"  cried  the  pink  domino 
sharoly,  "  if  all  one  hears  be  true  how  many 
have  you  taught  to  spell  —  its  opposite  ?  " 

Lord  Mandeville  took  his  hand  out  of  his 
pocket  and  slapped  it  on  his  knee. 

"  My  dear,"  said  he,  "  if  you  '11  take  off  that 
mask,  I  '11  make  your  pretty  lips  spell  some 
nice  little  words  of  one  syllable  that,  I  trow, 
will  not  be  new  to  them!  " 

Mistress  Bellairs  looked  at  him  a  moment 
in  deep  reflection  before  answering.  Here, 
beside  her,  was  the  most  notorious  roue  in 
the  kingdom  ;  he  who,  if  rumour  spoke  truly 
could  make  what  he  liked  of  half  the  fine 
ladies  in  London,  and  disdained  the  trouble. 
Why  had  she  also  set  her  heart  on  him } 
What  was  there,  then,  about  him  .f*  He  was 
in  difficulties,  through  his  own  recklessness; 
he  was  of  no  higher  family  than  a  dozen 
others,  and  vastly  less  handsome  than  some. 
His  eyes   were    too    prominent     under    too 

[76] 


GREY     DOMINO 


arched  brows ;  his  face  too  pale,  his  hair  too 
sandy.  Pride,  pride,  disdain,  ennui,  sat  on 
his  languid  eyelid ;  on  his  full  underlip,  on 
his  thrust-out  cleft  chin.  What,  then,  was 
there  about  him?  Something  there  must 
have  been,  in  sooth,  for  Kitty  swore  by  all 
her  little  gods  that  she  would  bring  him  to 
her  feet. 

"  Pray,  my  lord,  how  do  they  spell  manners 
in  your  school?  "  she  asked. 

"  Much  as  they  spell  fiddle-de-dee  in  yours, 
my  dear.  Tut!  off  with  your  vizard,  pink 
butterfly,  and  to  our  bargain  ! " 

"  Nay,  sir;  I  '11  have  you  know  it  takes  two 
to  make  a  bargain." 

"In  faith  and  I  hope  —  else  it  would  be 
dull  work.  You  are  elementary,  madam. 
Why,  't  is  one  of  the  first  examples  in  gram- 
mar one  learns  to  decline." 

"  Oh,  to  decline,"  quoth  she  pointedly. 
"I'll  need  no  teaching  to  do  that  here,  my 
lord !  " 

He  again  turned  towards  her.  Tiny 
flecks  of  light  were  dancing  in  the  eyes  he 
fixed  upon  her.  Kitty  saw  that  she  had 
begun  not  only  to  amuse  but  to  tantalise. 
Her  heart  swelled  with  anticipation  of 
triumph. 

[77] 


lilNCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^J 

Not  only  the  easy  kiss  to  be  withheld  until 
it  was  asked  for  in  other  fashion  than  this, 
but  the  sight  of  that  little  face  of  hers,  which 
Kitty  herself  believed  was  the  most  fascinat- 
ing in  all  the  town,  to  be  denied  until  that 
ripe  moment  when  it  should  shine  forth  be- 
fore the  assembled  beauties  of  the  great 
supper  table  and  be  acclaimed  beyond  com- 
pare ;  that  of  his  bride ! 

A  grey  domino,  dove-grey  from  head  to 
foot,  tall  and  of  very  slight  figure  (so  much 
only  the  close-falling  folds  allowed  the  eye 
to  apprise),  had  been  leaning  against  the 
archway,  looking  in  upon  them.  Now  she 
glided  across  the  room  and,  to  Kitty's  ex- 
treme displeasure,  sat  down  upon  the  other 
side  of  Lord  Mandeville.  The  latter,  how- 
ever, did  not  seem  to  prize  the  tete-a-tete  so 
highly:   he  glanced  round  with  a  smile. 

"  A  grey  moth,"  said  he,  "  and  a  pink 
butterfly.  Well,  ladies,  I  have  a  large 
heart." 

The  grey  domino  sighed  faintly,  but  with 
an  echo  as  of  great  sadness. 

"  Grey  is  a  fair  colour,"  said  Lord  Mande- 
ville, suddenly  and  irrelevantly  addressing 
his  own    diamond-buckled    shoe.     "  A  man 

L78] 


GREY     DOMINO 


can  live  with  greys  where  your  reds  will 
sicken  him  in  an   hour." 

His  face  softened,  as  he  spoke,  in  an  almost 
incredible  manner,  and  his  eye  lost  itself  as 
if  in  the  contemplation  of  a  tender  vision. 
Kitty  knew  that  he  was  thinking  of  his  play- 
actress,  and  cursed  the  fine  London  lady  — 
surely  a  fine  London  lady,  if  a  guest  at  Elm 
Park  this  night!  —  whose  freak  for  a 
Quakerish  colour  had  put  her  own  rosy 
brilliance  at  discount. 

The  grey  domino  sighed  again. 

"  Grey  is  the  colour  of  fading  light,"  said 
she.  She  spoke  in  a  voice  obviously  feigned, 
but  even  then  it  was  a  soft  one.  "  I  ask  my- 
self what  it  is  doins^  here." 

"  It 's  resting  my  eyes,"  said  his  lordship 
abruptly. 

"  Verily,  a  strange  place  for  you  too,  sir, 
if  rest  be  what  you  are  seeking." 

Kitty's  pulses  began  to  beat  very  quickly. 
She  had  pricked  her  ear  at  the  sound  of 
the  "  verily." 

"  May  be  that  your  lordship,"  said  she,  ad- 
dressing him,  but  answering  his  mysterious 
neighbour, "  will  find  more  truth  in  light  and 
colour  after  all  than  in  these  demure  greys. 
What  is  grey  but  tarnished  white  1  " 

[79  ] 


^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRSil 

Grey  Domino  gave  a  little  start  and  some- 
thing like  the  ghost  of  a  cry. 

Lord  Mandeville  rolled  his  eyes  from  the 
pink  to  the  grey.  Then  he  put  his  own  hand 
suddenly  on  the  slender,  grey-gloved  hand 
that  was  peeping  out  of  the  great  muiifling 
sleeve,  and  turned  his  back  upon  Mistress 
Kitty. 

"  I  came  here  to  try  and  forget." 

Kitty  could  hardly  believe  that  this  was  the 
hard,  mocking  voice  she  was  familiar  with. 

"  And  can  you  forget  .f*  " 

"  Aha  !  "  thought  the  little,  angry  listener, 
"  Grey  Domino  omits  to  disguise  her  tones." 

She  could  not  distinguish  his  next  words, 
which  were  whispered  into  the  new-comer's 
ear.  But  the  answer  to  them,  though  low 
spoken,  with  a  little  break  as  between  tears 
and  smiles,  Kitty  caught  with  a  fierce  pounce 
as  she  lay  in  wait  like  a  cat  for  a  mouse. 

Said  Grey  Domino : 

"  Ah,  my  lord,  ah,  Lionel,  thee  knows  ! " 

What  Lord  Mandeville  knew  Kitty  did 
not  pause  to  ask,  but  she  herself  knew 
enough.     She  sprang  to  her  feet. 

"  Peace  be  with  thee,  friend  Mandeville," 
she  cried  with  an  angry  titter,  pausing  a 
second  to  have  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the 

[80] 


GREY     DOMINO 


grey  domino  again  start  and  wince  —  to 
have  the  humihation  of  meetinor  the  careless 
momentary  glance  that  Lord  Mandeville 
threw  at  her  before  dismissing  her  existence 
from  his  mind. 

Then  she  hurried  forth,  fluttering  her 
feathers  in  a  vast  state  of  fume  and  virtuous 
indignation,  not  unmingled  with  scorn  for 
the  worth lessness  of  the  object.  It  was  mon- 
strous, it  was  not  to  be  borne,  that  honest 
women  should  be  brousrht  in  contact  with 
such  creatures  !  —  To  push  her  audacity  into 
pursuing  him  into  his  own  sister's  house  — 
the  hussy  !     A   Quaker,  a  renegade  at  that 

—  a  fool  into  the  bargain  —  "  Thee  knows  !  " 

—  and  to  call  herself  an  actress!  Kitty 
paused  to  consider  for  a  moment,  with  ar- 
tistic regret,  how  she  would  have  treated 
the  situation.  Then  she  pursued  her  angry 
hunt  for  her  hostess  :  such  things  were  not 
to  be  permitted  to  pass  unpunished.  The 
quality  must  be  protected ;  insolence  must 
be  exposed ! 

She  discovered  Lady  Flora  easily  enough  ; 
no  domino  could  disguise  those  rotund  pro- 
portions ;  nor  could  the  jolly  fat  laugh  be 
kept  by  mask  or  hood  within  bounds  of 
secrecy. 

6  [8i] 


^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRSii 

Kitty  swiftly  drew  her  aside  and  poured 
forth  her  tale.  At  the  news  of  so  dangerous 
a  presence  in  her  house  and  the  consequent 
failure  of  their  plans,  the  anger  of  Lord 
Mandeville's  sister  was  for  the  moment  quite 
satisfactory. 

"  Tut  —  tut !  A  pretty  story  !  How  dare 
the  trollop  !  —  la  !  dear,  how  you  do  pinch  — 
Quite  so.  I  agree  with  you,  but  you  need 
not  shake  me,  child,  Lm  not  going  to  stand 
it.      But  what  is  to  do  ?  " 

Kitty  had  her  plan.  It  had  sprung,  like 
Minerva,  ready  armed  from  her  excited  brain. 
Lady  Flora  listened  with  but  half  attention 
—  the  supper  room  was  about  to  be  thrown 
open,  the  music  had  already  ceased.  The 
best  part  of  the  entertainment,  from  her 
point  of  view,  was  about  to  begin.  After  a 
second  she  chuckled  :  Kitty's  idea  seemed  to 
promise  sport. 

"  Capital,"  she  cried,  "  capital !  I  leave  it 
all  to  you."  Her  mind  fiew  off  again  to  fat 
capon  and  Sillery.  "  But  be  brief.  We 
are  actually  keeping  His  Royal  Highness 
waiting  ! " 

The  authorisation  was  all  that  Kitty  Bel- 
lairs  demanded.  She  was  only  anxious  to  be 
given  a  free  hand.     For  a  second  she  stood 

[82] 


GREY     DOMINO 


in  a  corner  of  the  ball-room,  as  if  in  reflec- 
tion, watching  the  scene  as  each  silken  beau 
sought  his  favourite  mask,  and  partners  in- 
terchanged or  clung  together,  in  anticipation 
of  the  procession  to  supper.  But  all  the 
while  she  never  lost  sight  of  the  little  pink 
alcove  room,  as  the  cat  watches  the  mouse- 
hole.  She  knew  that  there  was  no  other  exit 
from  it  and  that  her  prey  could  not  escape. 

"  Supper,  supper  !"  cried  Lady  Flo  jovially, 
her  fat,  mittened  hand  resting  on  the  boyish 
arm  of  the  royal  guest. 

"  May  I  have  the  delight.?*  "  said  Mr.  Staf- 
ford in  Kitty's  ear.  "  I  've  been  seeking  you 
all  the  evening." 

To  his  surprise  she  accepted  with  alacrity, 
and  thereupon  advanced  with  him  into  the 
room  towards  the  pompous  figure  of  that 
elderly  and  renowned  buck,  Mr.  Colthurst  of 
Glares,  who  was  playing  his  usual  role  of 
master  of  ceremonies.  At  the  same  instant 
the  tall  figures  of  Grey  Domino  and  her 
cavalier  appeared  in  the  archway. 

Kitty's  hour  had  struck. 

"  Pray,  sir,"  said  she  to  Mr.  Colthurst, 
"have  you  not  forgot  your  duties,?  Is  it, 
not  to  be  :  '  masks  off  ? '  " 

He  rolled  a  dubious  and  prominent  eye. 

[83] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


"  I  thought  at  the  supper  table,"  said  he. 

"  Pooh  !  "  cried  Kitty,  with  a  scornful  titter 
behind  her  vizard.  "  Gest  la  une  mode  bien 
passee,  cher  monsieur  !  Have  you  not  heard 
that  where  Royalty  is  to  sup  not  one  sits 
down    in   disguise  }  " 

Stafford  stared  in  amaze  at  Rose  Domino. 
What  was  the  new  scheme }  Mr.  Colthurst, 
on  his  side,  hesitated.  But  his  glance  ap- 
praised the  film  of  priceless  lace,  the  flash  of 
the  great  ruby  at  her  throat;  while  his  ear 
seized  the  assurance  of  her  tone,  the  purity 
of  her  French  accent.  Here  was  some  very 
great  lady  —  and  there  was  a  new  rule,  and 
he  had  not  known  it !      He  flushed  purple. 

"  Masks  off !  "  he  exclaimed  in  command- 
ing tones,  clapping  his  hands.  "  Every  lady 
must  this  moment  unmask  !  " 

Grey  Domino,  half  way  across  the  room, 
halted  as  if  the  words  had  hit  her.  Lord 
Mandeville,  with  a  whispered  encouragement, 
was  for  drawing  her  onwards.  Mr.  Col- 
thurst at  this  moment  uplifted  his  hand  ;  a 
respectful  circle  was  formed  round  the  door, 
into  the  midst  of  whicli  stepped  the  young 
Prince  and  stood  smilins:  down  the  lone 
saloon.  Lady  Flora's  rubicund  visage,  already 
unveiled,  shone  beside   him;   and   the   royal 

[84] 


GREY     DOMINO 


guest  nodded  with  boyish  pleasure  and  curi- 
osity as,  one  after  the  other,  the  vizards  fell, 
the  dominoes  were  discarded,  and  many  a  fair, 
merry  countenance  was  revealed  under  the 
wax-lights. 

Kitty  had  been  among  the  first  to  obey  the 
mandate  she  had  herself  inspired  —  the  better 
to  breathe  her  triumph.  She  had  succeeded 
—  the  Quaker  was  trapped  !  She  could  al- 
most hear  how  Lord  Mandeville  whispered 
in  the  ear  of  his  frightened  partner  :  "  Leave 
it  to  me.     I  will  manas^e." 

"  Shall  you,  my  lord,  shall  you  ?  "  cried  the 
little  widow  vindictively  to  herself.  And, 
drawing  Stafford  swiftly  with  her,  she  took  up 
her  post  within  easy  distance  of  the  seat  to 
which  Lord  Mandeville  had  retreated,  in  the 
evident  hope  of  remaining  unnoticed  in  the 
crowd.  It  was  then  that  Stafford  began  to 
guess  something  of  Kitty's  manoeuvre.  He 
recognised  the  "noble  quarry,"  and  saw  beside 
him  the  dove-grey  mask,  with  whom  his  lord- 
ship seemed  indeed  much  occupied. 

"Oho!  Sits  the  wind  in  that  quarter.? 
Has  some  new  thing  of  wit,  of  wealth,  and 
of  beauty  stolen  a  march  upon  our  delicious 
Kitty?  Why,  then,  as  poor  O'Hara  is  so  fond 
of  saying,  will  there  be  wigs  on  the  green ! " 

[85] , 


.^:iNCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRSil 

Little,  however,  did  the  genial  gentleman 
realise,  what  wigs  ! 

Kitty  looked  eagerly  round  the  room. 
Thus  far,  so  many  fair  ones  still  preferred  the 
delicate  joys  of  dalliance,  so  many  lingered 
to  whisper  a  last  audacious  or  coquettish 
word  under  safe  cover,  that  Grey  Domino 
could  evoke  no  comment. 

Mistress  Bellairs  raised  a  shrill  protest. 
She  felt  herself  the  ineptitude  of  it.  A  few 
turned  in  surprise,  a  few  in  admiration,  to 
glance  at  the  little  face,  which,  quivering  with 
passion,  had  never  looked  more  brilliantly 
pretty.  But  the  young  Bath  widow  was 
scarcely  known  yet  in  Town.  And  here  a 
fading  duchess  shrugged  her  shoulder;  there 
a  beau  raised  his  glass  to  appraise  en  con- 
noisseur. No  more  did  she  avail.  Still 
unnoticed,  Grey  Domino  sat  in  safet}',  and 
Lord  Mandeville  was  whispering  unpunished 
in  her  ear.  Quick  as  lightning,  Kitty  turned 
to  Stafford  : 

"  Up  with  you  !  "  she  bade  him,  in  a  fierce 
undertone.  "  It  is  the  right  of  you  men  to 
claim,  '  Masks  off  ! '  " 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  sort  of  benevolent 
amusement  as  she  trembled  beside  him  ;  then, 
whether  to  please  her,  whether  from  a  curios- 

[86] 


GREY     DOMINO 


ity  to  see  the  end  of  the  comedy,  prepared  to 
humour  her. 

Beau  Stafford  was  a  power  in  the  narrow 
world  of  fashion.  The  mere  fact  of  his 
advance  into  the  room  secured  silence. 

"  Fie !  Fie  !  "  he  cried.  "  Why  will  our 
fair  ones  be  so  fair,  yet  so  unfair  ?  .  .  . 
Gentlemen,  insist  upon  your  rights  —  your 
hour  has  come  !  Off  with  those  ugly  barriers 
behind  which  we  have  been  baited  and 
mocked  all   night! " 

He  was  interrupted  by  bursts  of  laughter. 
Masculine  hands  were  outstretched,  little 
white  ones  repelled  them.  It  was  a  pretty 
uproar.  His  Royal  Highness  was  vastly  en- 
tertained. Emboldened,  Mr.  Stafford  raised 
his  voice  higher: 

"  Nay,  then  —  he  that  fails  to  get  the  vision 
of  his  lady's  face,  let  him  pass  as  a  discarded 
knight!  And  the  fair  one  who  still  denies  — 
why,  faith,  let  her  pass  as  one  who  had  better 
hide!" 

He  laughed  out  loud  himself,  the  genial 
beau,  as  he  ran  a  swift  eye  over  the  length  of 
the  room.  That  last  neat  thrust  of  his  had 
reached  home !  Not  a  lady  but  had  swiftly 
whipped  off  the  offending  vizard.  He  was 
retiring,  well  satisfied,  to  Kittv's  side,   when 

[87] 


^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


his  arm  was  nipped  between  little  fingers  of 
steel. 

"Look  to  your  right!"  ordered  Mrs. 
Bellairs. 

And  trul)^  there  sat  Grey  Domino,  still 
masked.  Beside  her,  aroused  for  once  in  his 
life,  with  countenance  changing  from  livid 
pallor  to  crimson  —  Lord  Mandeville,  with 
furious  eyes,  challenging. 

These  were  days  when  if  a  gentleman  did 
not  hold  blood  cheap  he  were  not  worthy 
the  blood  of  a  gentleman.  It  was  these 
challenging  eyes  that  Mr.  Stafford  hastened 
to  answer  now,  rather  than  Kitty's  implied 
command. 

"  So,  ho,  my  lord,  do  you  plead  guilty  — 
or  does  your  partner  ?  " 

There  was  a  flutter  that  cleared  the  space 
around  him.  Kitty  negligently  flirted  her 
fan.     Things  were  on  the  move  at  last. 

"And  if  it  pleases  me  that  my  partner 
should  remain  masked,  what  then,  Mr. 
Stafford  }  " 

"  Why  then,  your  lordship  has  doubtless 
good  reasons.  But  't  is  not  for  me  to  give 
the  verdict,  since  his  lordship  has  a  right  to 
be  judged  by  his  peers." 

So  saying,   he  drew    back.     But    matters 

[88] 


GREY     DOMINO 


were  indeed  moving,  as  Kitty  had  pro- 
nounced. Curiosity  was  aroused.  Aye,  and 
jealousy.  The  men  were  now  all  agog  about 
the  mysterious  stranger ;  the  ladies  were 
dying  to  know  who  could  have  made  so  swift 
a  conquest  where  most  had  tried  and  failed. 
The  Prince  was  observed  to  question  Lady 
Flora;  and  the  latter  began  to  display  some 
flurry.  She  was  anxious,  indeed,  as  Kitty 
noted  with  much  wrath,  to  lead  him  forth- 
with to  the  supper  room.  But,  his  curiosity 
being  piqued,  he  pleasantly  but  firmly 
resisted. 

There  was  clamour  and  counter-clamour. 
Grey  Domino  sat  very  still;  Lord  Mande- 
ville,  crouching  a  little  forward,  looked  from 
one  to  the  other,  not  unlike  a  wild  beast 
selecting  his  prey.  Suddenly  he  sprang  to 
his  feet  and  touched  the  hilt  of  his  sword, 
snarling  against  the  laughing  cries,  "  Un- 
mask!  unmask!" 

"  And  I  say  she  shall  not !  " 

There  fell  a  dead  silence.  This  sudden 
turn  towards  tragedy  was  unexpected ;  not  at 
all  in  good  taste.  Lady  Flora  looked  ex- 
tremely annoyed,  while,  with  the  exquisite 
tact  that  always  characterised  him,  His 
Royal  Highness  pointedly  drew  attention  to 

[89] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS|^ 


the  charming  design  of  her  Venetian  chan- 
deHers. 

The  poor  hostess  laid  her  hand  on  his 
arm  and  again  murmured,  "Supper;"  but 
he,  with  an  airy  gesture  of  admiration 
towards  the  ceiling  (painted  by  Thornhill), 
contrived  to  advance  quite  a  couple  of  yards 
nearer  the  interesting  group. 

As  Lord  Mandeville  had  touched  his 
sword  he  had  looked  again  darkly  at  Mr. 
Stafford,  and  Mr.  Stafford  had  instantly  taken 
one  step  forward  and  repeated  the  gesture 
with  cheerful  alacrity.  It  was  as  discreet  as 
an  interchange  of  masonic  amenities.  But 
behind  her  mask  Grey  Domino's  eyes  shifted 
from  one  to  the  other. 

"Come,"  said  Lord  Mandeville  then,  with 
sudden  decision,  and  laid  his  hand  on  her 
shoulder. 

Grey  Domino  rose,  but  it  was  not  to  obey. 
For  the  first  time  in  the  scene  in  which  she 
was  so  deeply  interested,  she  lifted  her  voice ; 
a  low,  soft  voice  it  was,  yet  heard  all  through 
the  room. 

"  Nay,"  said  she,  "  God  forbid  that  hand 
should  touch  sword  because  of  my  folly. 
I  will  even  uncover  my  face." 

Lord  Mandeville  started  with  a  gesture  of 

[90] 


GREY     DOMINO 


angry  protest.  Then,  with  a  swift  change 
of  mood: 

"  Do  so,  then  !  "  he  cried  loudly,  and  sent 
his  eyes  roaming  in  defiance  round  the  ex- 
pectant circle,  to  end  at  last  upon  his  sister's 
heated  countenance.  Yet  now  the  defiance 
of  those  arrogant  eyes  of  his  was  almost 
joyous,  almost  that  of  triumph. 

Under  hands  that  trembled  a  little,  Grey 
Domino's  mask  fell,  and  the  face  of  Rachel 
Peace  was  revealed  to  the  assembly. 

There  was  a  sudden  indrawing  of  breath; 
a  rustle  and  creak  of  silk  as  if  upon  a  gasp 
of  surprise ;  then  a  deep  silence  in  which  the 
very  walls  seemed  to  take  eyes ;  and  then  a 
low  quick  murmur. 

The  countenance  of  Rachel  Peace,  among 
all  these  flushed  and  rouged  faces,  looked 
strangely  pale.  As  those  who  knew  her 
remembered,  her  head  usually  drooped  a 
little  from  a  long  slender  neck  ;  but  now, 
held  high,  it  took  a  poise  of  pride.  Hers 
was  the  countenance  of  one  who  thought,  of 
one  who  suffered.  There  were  many  more 
beautiful  preaent,  there  were  some  of  the 
noblest  in  the  land ;  but  beside  this  poor  act- 
ress in  her  hour  of  humiliation,  how  inane, 
how  vapid  did  they  show:  the  Fine  Ladies 

[91] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


beside  the  Woman !  Rachel  Peace  moved 
slow  eyes  from  one  to  another,  and  there  was 
not  a  man  that  moment  that  did  not  envy 
Lord  Mandeville.  There  was  also  not  a 
dame  but  would  have  cheerfully  signed  the 
girl's  death-warrant,  save,  perhaps  Lady 
Plora,  whose  good-natured  soul  was  chiefly 
concerned  at  such  a  to-do  in  her  house,  at 
such  an  interruption  to  good  appetite.  But, 
with  the  Prince's  now  grave  presence  by  her 
side,  and  goaded  as  she  was  by  looks,  shrugs, 
whispers,  she  felt  forced  to  take  action.  She 
could  be  a  very  great  lady  when  she  chose. 

"  Pray,  madam,"  said  she,  advancing  in  dig- 
nity, "to  what  do  I  owe  the  honour  ?  " 

The  slow  eyes  turned  to  her.  Then 
Rachel   Peace  spoke  again : 

"  Alas,  madam,"  she  answered  with  sim- 
plicity, "  there  is  no  excuse  that  I  can  offer 
for  my  intrusion.  I  can  only  beg  your  lady- 
ship to  allow  me  to  withdraw." 

She  moved  forward  and  curtseyed  to  the 
Prince  with  the  inimitable  grace  and  meas- 
ure of  one  to  whom  the  art  of  movement  has 
become  second  nature.  And  on  the  same 
instant  an  unexpected  utterance  pronounced 
the  verdict  of  the  evenincf. 

"  1  feel  sure,"  said  the  voung  Prince,  "  that 

I  9^1 


GREY     DOMINO 


wherever  Miss  Rachel  Peace  appears,  she 
may  reckon  upon  a  welcome." 

Thereupon  he  clapped  his  hands  twice, 
lightly,  as  if  applauding  her  from  the  royal 
box  in  her  own  playhouse ;  on  the  instant 
every  gentleman  in  the  company  followed  the 
august  example.  And  Rachel  Peace  made  her 
exit  to  the  familiar  sound  of  acclamations. 

At  the  door  she  looked  back  over  her 
shoulder  and  found  Lord  Mandeville  close 
to  her. 

"  Na3^"  she  said  to  him,  "  I  pray  you  let 
me  go  forth  alone." 

But  before  the  flame  in  his  eye  her  own 
sank.     She  suffered  him  to  lead  her. 

"  I  vow,"  said  the  Prince  to  Lady  Flora  as 
they  moved  towards  the  supper  room,  "  I  am 
indeed  ready  to  do  justice  to  the  famed 
cuisijie  of  Elm  Park  House ! "  (So  was 
Lady  Flo.) 

Mr.  Stafford  drew  a  deep  sigh  and  seemed 
to  wake  as  from  a  dream. 

"  By  the  Lord,"  said  he  to  himself.  "  I 
cannot  regret  what  I  have  done.  No,  not 
though  I  'm  like  to  have  to  make  an  early 
morning  of  it  at  carte  and  tierce  with  my 
lord.  Gad  —  but  she's  a  pearl!  And  the 
dog  is  in  too  much  luck." 

[93] 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS 


The  next  instant  his  eye  lit  upon  Kitty 
almost  in  surprise.  He  had  actually  forgot 
her. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Stafford,"  said  she,  in  a  con- 
centrated undertone,  "  you  've  made  a  pretty 
mess  of  everything  to-night !  " 

Kitty  did  not  bear  defeat  graciously.  But 
Kitty,  with  large  eyes  softened  by  a  mist  of 
angry  tears,  red  lips  trembling  in  babyish 
fashion,  was  no  such  unattractive  spectacle. 
And  Mr.  Stafford  smiled  involuntarily  at  her. 

"  Bah  !  "  she  pursued,  "  there  's  not  a  man 
that  knows  how  to  behave  to  a  lady  !  How 
dared  you  clap  your  hands  at  the  creature  ? 
Oh,"  said  she,  with  a  catch  in  her  breath,  "if 
my  poor  O'Hara  had  been  here! " 

•  ••••••* 

Lord  Mandeville  paused.  He  and  Rachel 
Peace  stood  alone  in  the  hall. 

"  Sweetheart,"  he  said,  "  I  have  asked  no 
question  yet.  But  now  I  must  know ;  how 
come  you  here  }  " 

She  turned  her  face  towards  him  and  tried 
to  look  up.      But  her  eyes  fell. 

"  You  parted  from  me  in  anger.  My 
heart  was  like  to  break  all  those  days.  To- 
night—  it  was  after  the  play — I  had  no 
courage  left.     A  woman  came  to  me  —  one 

[94] 


GREY     DOMINO 


I  did  not  know — and  she  put  a  card  into 
my  hand  and  said  to  me,  'Go,  if '" 

"If  what?" 

"  If  I  would  not  lose  you.  I  saw  it  was 
inscribed  to  the  name  of  the  lady — oh,  my 
lord !  —  to  the  name  of  her  whom  people 
say  you  are  to  wed  !  And  so  I  was  seized 
with  madness,  I  think  —  and  so  I  came!" 

Then,  as  once  before  this  evening,  she 
raised  her  head  in  pride. 

"  Let  them  think  what  they  will  of  me," 
she  said,  "  but  thee  knows,  my  lord,  there  is 
no  reason  why  I  should  not  stand  among 
your  sister's  guests  !  " 

"  Do  I  not  know  it  but  too  well  ? "  he 
made  answer.  "  Ah,  Rachel ;  you  are  my 
despair  and  my  glory  !  " 


[95] 


Ill 


<d^ 


R.  DENIS  O'HARA  was  dis- 
tracted between  ecstasy  and  de- 
spair. 
It  had  so  fallen  out  that  the 
lady  of  his  heart,  the  object  of  years  of  hope- 
less devotion,  Mistress  Kitty  Bellairs,  to  wit 
—  daintiest  little  widow  that  ever  stepped 
through  an  obsequious  world  on  high  red 
heels  !  —  was  not  to  contract,  after  all,  a  cer- 
tain magnificent  alliance  which  would  have 
been  the  death-blow  to  his  own  aspirations. 

Furthermore,  the  circumstances  of  the 
breach  between  the  wealthy  widow  and  my 
lord  Earl  Mandeville  had  been  such  as  to 
place  the  lady  in  the  odious  and  unparalleled 
position  of  aggrieved  party.     Not  to  mince 

[96] 


LITTLE     RED     HEELS 


words,  the  lovely  Kitty  had  been  jilted  —  she, 
the  most  notorious  little  jilt  herself !  In 
circumstances  such  as  these,  the  Irishman 
(an  experienced  lover)  had  said  to  himself  : 
"  There  's  no  knowing."     Hence  ecstasy  ! 

But  alas  !  what  Mr.  O'Hara  knew  but  too 
well — what,  indeed,  demanded  no  effort  of 
intellect  for  its  realisation — was  the  vacuous 
state  of  his  purse  and  the  consequent  impos- 
sibility of  maintaining  himself  with  any  sort 
of  credit  within  the  brilliant  circle  that  sur- 
rounded the  rich  widow.     Hence  despair ! 

Matters  came  to  a  crisis.  He  lost  the 
last  of  his  guineas  at  the  bouillotie  of  my 
Lady  Buckinghamshire's  mansion,  in  a  gal- 
lant effort  to  retrieve  his  fortunes.  Mistress 
Kitty  Bellairs'  doors  were  yet  closed  to  all 
the  world,  and  her  friends  were  still  asked 
to  believe  that  the  little  lady  was  a  prey  to 
the  grippe.  But  this  mood  could  not  last 
long.  Denis  became  desperate.  He  with- 
drew from  company,  spent  the  night  over 
figures.  He  was  not  at  the  best  of  times 
particularly  good  at  calculations,  and  the 
result  of  his  strenuous  vigil  (a  wet  towel  tied 
over  his  red  curls  to  ensure  coolness  of  brain 
action,  a  jug  of  delicately  brewed  rack-punch 
to  stimulate  activity  of  thought)  was  a  couple 

7  [97  ] 


^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^l 

of  innocent-looking  figures,  followed  by  such 
a  distractincj  row  of  nouijhts  as  to  make  him 
empty  the  brew  at  a  draught  and  fan  himself 
with  his  wet  towel. 

"The  curse  of  the  crows  is  on  it!"  said 
the  poor  young  man,  a  sorry,  haggard  spec- 
tacle in  the  grim  winter  dawn.  "  There  's  no 
making  the  two  ends  of  the  candle  meet  at 
all,  at  all,  over  here.  There  's  nothing  for  it 
but  I  must  all  the  way  to  Ireland  and  see 
if  the  old  gentleman  has  left  me  a  few  sticks 
of  trees  to  cut  down,  and  what  I  can  squeeze 
or  coax  out  of  the  lawyer  boys." 

Yes,  he  must  go,  and  that  forthwith.  My 
Lord  Verney  would  gladly  lend  him  a  hand- 
ful of  guineas  —  to  go  away  withal ;  his 
landlady  would  trust  him  till  his  return. 
(Where  was  there  a  woman  yet  that  would 
not  trust  O'Hara,  the  handsome  ne'er-do- 
weel  ?  Many  a  one,  in  truth,  would  have 
been  glad  to  trust  him  further  than  he,  with 
his  single  heart,  was  like  to  ask  of  her.) 

On  the  noon  after  this  tremendous  reso- 
lution, Denis  was  ready  to  start.  Verney 's 
gold  jingled  in  his  ])ocket.  He  had  kissed 
his  landlady,  left  a  despairing  love-letter  at 
the  inexorably  barred  door  of  Kitty  in  dud- 
geon, and  under  the  pale  blue  sky,  misting 

[98] 


LITTLE     RED     HEELS 


into  dun  city  vapours,  he  mounted  a  mettle- 
some chestnut  mare  —  "  Red  Beauty  "  yclept 

—  lent  from  the  stables  of  Mr.  Stafford,  a 
wealthy  friend,  and  selected  by  him  as  "  a 
good  match  for  his  hair!"  (Mr.  Stafford, 
like  the  rest  of  Mistress  Bellairs'  little  court, 
perhaps  saw  no  disadvantage  in  the  absence 
for  a  while  from  the  town  of  the  winning  Mr. 
O'Hara.)  Posting  was  expensive  ;  coaching 
in  winter  weather  and  wintry  roads  was  slow 

—  aye,  and  too  dull.  Mr.  Stafford's  friendly 
loan  was  opportune. 

With  light  valise  strapped  on  the  crupper, 
with  holsters  well  filled,  with  a  handy  hanger 
on  his  thigh,  instead  of  the  natty  smallsword 
at  which  he  was  such  an  expert,  Mr.  O'Hara 
pricked  his  way  down  Knightsbridge  towards 
the  old  Bath  road  —  bent  for  Bristol — a 
solitary  horseman,  yet  with  none  too  heavy 
a  heart,  in  spite  of  the  uncertainty  of  his 
venture. 

To  have  young  blood  in  your  veins  and 
a  singing  soul,  to  feel  a  piece  of  good  horse- 
flesh between  your  knees,  to  be  independent 
and  yet  to  be  in  love,  to  be  setting  forth  on 
a  hazard  of  risky  fortunes  and  yet  to  have 
settled  hopes  —  does  a  man  need  more  to  be 
happy } 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS 


A  tolerably  well-metalled  turnpike  road 
ringing  to  quick  hoofs,  a  fair  country  open- 
ing out  ever  new  and  ever  fairer,  a  glorious 
frosty  sky  above,  and  tart,  tingling  airs 
whipping  the  cheeks ;  the  prospect  of  a 
strange  inn-room  and  of  unknown  company 
for  the  night's  halt ;  the  arrival  in  the  dark 
through  the  spice  of  lurking  danger,  the 
savour  of  unfamiliar  country  fare,  and  the 
smack  of  the  nutty  home-brewed  against 
the  palate  ;  the  traveller's  tale  in  the  ingle- 
nook  by  the  fire,  the  drowsy  comfort  and  the 
deep  sleep ;  the  awakening  of  a  morning  in 
a  strange  bed,  and  the  looking  out  upon  an 
unknown  landscape  under  a  fairy  veil  of 
frost.  And  next  day,  the  start  again,  a  fresh 
man  into  a  fresh  world,  with  the  rested  steed 
spurning  the  frozen  ground  with  drum  of 
iron!  ...  It  is  a  question,  after  all,  whether 
the  little  frequent  joys  of  life  do  not  total 
a  better  sum  of  satisfaction  than  the  rare 
ecstasies  which  make  so  great  a  demand  upon 
our  human  limitations  and  leave  such  void 
behind. 

True,  this  traveller  would  heave  a  heavy 
sigh  ever  and  anon  at  the  thought  of  the 
space  and  time  he  was  putting,  ever  lengthen- 
ing, between  himself  and  his  beloved.     But 

[  loo] 


^    LITTLE     RED     HEELS    il 

the  next  moment  her  name  would  be  on  his 
lips  with  a  smile.  And,  after  all,  true  lover 
as  he  was,  he  bore  her  with  him  :  a  most 
delicate  and  roguish  dream-Kitty  —  and  a  far 
tenderer,  if  truth  be  told,  than  the  same 
lady  in  the  dainty  flesh  !  For  did  she  not, 
in  his  fancy,  trot  about  his  room  on  little 
red  heels,  and  kiss  him  good  night  with  a 
lace  kerchief  tied  over  her  dark  curls  ? 
(as  once  he  had  seen  her  at  her  toilet.  Oh, 
lovely  Kitty ! ). 

And  did  she  not  ride  behind  him  through 
the  sparkle  and  tingle  of  the  morning,  an 
invisible  Kitty  on  an  invisible  pillion,  but 
with  her  sweet  arms  round  his  neck  to  keep 
his  heart  warm  ?  Aye,  and  now  and  then 
whispered  in  his  ear,  to  send  the  song  of  his 
soul  carolling  loud  to  those  silent  hedges,  so 
furred  with  little  icicles  that  not  even  a  robin 
could  pipe  there  ? 

The  first  halt  at  Hounslow  ;  the  next  day 
"  at  the  sign  of  the  Angel,"  Woolhampton, 
where,  after  a  mighty  fine  supper,  Mr.  O'Hara 
spent  the  night  appropriately  in  roaming 
fields  heavenly  with  his  own  particular  con- 
ception of  an  angelic  being  —  in  red-heeled 
slippers,  diamond  buckled  !  And  he  started 
next  day  in  the  highest  feather  under  quite 

[lOl] 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS 


a  warm  middle-day  sun,  for  just  as  far  as 
his  own  humour  and  the  mettle  of  friend 
Stafford's  admirable  chestnut  marc  would 
lead   him. 

They  were  now  drawing  near  the  high, 
flat  wastes  of  Cold  Ash  gorse-fields,  not 
many  miles  short  of  Newbury,  when  a  bleak 
wind  began  to  rise,  whistling  shrewishly  in 
the  rider's  ears,  and  bringing  such  dull,  chill 
mists  up  against  the  sky  that  all  its  ruddy 
sunset  promise  was  lost  in  threats  of  snow. 
The  soul  of  the  impressionable  Irishman 
became  instantly  affected. 

"  And  faith  ! "  said  he,  turning  up  the 
great  collar  of  his  roqiielattrc  to  his  ears, 
and  feeling  the  wind  pinch  the  tip  of  his 
boots  —  "  faith  !  and  't  is  the  devil  of  a  lonely 
journey  to-day  —  not  the  nose  of  a  nag  in 
sight;  not  the  tail  of  a  coach;  not  even 
the  rim  of  a  highwayman's  barker!"  As 
this  last  thought  hopped  into  his  mind  to 
the  tune  of  his  trot,  a  smile  twisted  his  lips. 
"  By  my  soul,  and  that's  an  idea!"  said  he. 
"  I  wonder,  now,  I  have  n't  taken  to  the 
business  myself,  instead  of  starting  this 
weary  old  way  to   Ireland  ! " 

Once,  in  a  fit  of  desperation,  he  had 
indeed  promised  Lydia  (a  person  of  prodig- 

[.02] 


LITTLE     RED     HEELS 


ious  importance  to  all  lovers  of  her  mistress) 
to  "go  on  the  road,"  if  necessary,  and  get 
her  a  diamond  necklace  in  recognition  of 
court  service!  He  juggled  with  the  thought 
for  a  minute  or  two,  cheating  himself  out  of 
his  sudden  sense  of  depression  and  loneliness 
by  a  vivid  series  of  fancy  pictures. 

"  There  does  not  seem  to  be  a  gentleman 
now  left  in  the  profession,  if  all  one  hears 
of  the  road  be  true  ...  I  flatter  myself," 
thought  he,  "  that  I  could  show  them  the 
way  to  do  the  thing!  " 

Tickled  by  the  humorous  thought,  he  gave 
his  hat  a  truculent  cock,  loosened  one  of  his 
pistols  in  its  holster  and  looked  round  upon 
the  leaden  waste  with  the  air  of  the  most 
gallant  desperado.  The  road  ran  along  a 
high  stretch  of  open  grassland  and  then 
suddenly  dipped,  so  that  the  view  in  front  of 
the  traveller  was  of  flat  spaces  enclosed  as  in 
a  cup  of  dull  sky.  Suddenly  —  in  the  midst 
of  his  mental  antics  — his  eye  was  attracted 
by  the  silhouette  of  a  man's  hat,  minute  but 
distinct  as  if  cut  out  of  court  plaster,  rising 
upon  this  near  horizon  line.  Under  hat-sil- 
houette followed  promptly  silhouette  of  flying 
cloak,  then  silhouette  of  straining  horse. 

"  Company,    be     jabers ! "     cried     Denis 

[  103] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRSi 


jovially.  And,  as  he  and  the  new-comer 
drew  nearer  to  each  other,  he  gathered  up 
his  reins  to  make  the  chestnut  strike  out 
with  elegance. 

"  He's  come  apace,"  thought  the  Irishman, 
"whoever  he  be.  That  beast  of  his  is  dead 
beat ;  the  legs  are  trembling  under  him. 
And  by  me  soul !  what  sort  of  company  is 
it  at  all  .f*  .  .  .   Bad,   I'm   thinking." 

The  stranger  indeed  bore  no  very  pre- 
possessing appearance ;  and  the  occupation 
in  which  he  was  engaged  as,  with  reins  loose 
upon  its  neck,  his  exhausted,  sweat-matted 
steed  toiled  up  the  incline,  was  not  the  most 
reassuring  one  in  the  world.  With  fever- 
ishly hurried  hands  he  was,  in  fact,  reloading 
a  long  horse-pistol.  About  his  garments 
there  was  a  flaunting  air  of  shabby  smart- 
ness ;  upon  his  countenance  (which  was 
marked  for  observation  by  a  dismal  length 
of  copper-red  nose)  a  scowling  anxiety  that 
tried  in  vain  to  assume  the  easy  airs  of  dash 
and  impudence.  He  lowered  up  from  his 
pistol  to  Denis  as  the  latter,  with  an  en- 
gaging smile,  drew  rein  within  a  few  yards; 
then  he  fluno^  a  swift  backward  look  over  his 
shoulder.  In  both  glances  there  was  a  back- 
ground spark  of  craven  fear. 

[  104] 


LITTLE     RED     HEELS 


"  Oho  and  oho ! "  said  Denis  to  himself 
with  a  leap  of  the  blood.  Then  his  smiling 
lip  curled.  "  And  did  I  not  say  that  there 
was  not  a  gentleman  in  it  ?  Oh,  shade  of  my 
gay  Duval !  Alas,  gallant  Maclean !  what 
sorry    scion    of   your   race    is    this } " 

"  You  ride  lonely,  sir,"  began  he  aloud, 
addressing  the  stranger. 

"  For  the  matter  of  that,  sir,"  answered  the 
latter,  after  a  slight  pause,  balancing  the  now 
reloaded  pistol  in  his  right  hand  and  gather- 
ing the  reins  in  his  left  as  he  spoke  —  "for 
the  matter  of  that,  sir,  so  do  you." 

"  And  you  have  ridden  fast,  I  mark,  sir," 
pursued  O'Hara  genially. 

"  Pra}^  sir,"  snarled  the  other,  "  what  is 
that  to  you  ?  " 

As  he  spoke,  his  furtive  eye  shifted  from 
O'Hara's  smiling  countenance  to  the  points 
of  the  dancing  mare,  and  thereupon  became 
filled  with  a  sinister,  greedy  glow.  On  his 
side,  with  bridle  hand  warily  alert,  and 
purposely  keeping  Red  Beauty  on  the  move 
to  frustrate  sudden  attack,  the  Irishman 
pursued    with    unperturbed    amiability  — 

"  Agreed !  A  gentleman  may  have  his 
reasons,  eh,  friend.?" 

"  Reasons }    Reasons  ?   Hell,   sir !     I  have 

[  '05  ] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


no  more  reasons  than  another  man.  I  '11 
have  you  know,  sir,  that  I  'm  none  of  your 
fellows  with  reasons.  I  will  drive  any  man's 
teeth  down  his  throat  who  dares  to  say  I 
have  reasons !  " 

"  Upon  my  life,  a  lad  of  richest  humour !  " 
cried  O'Hara,  addressing  the  wind.  "  In- 
deed, sir,"  added  he,  then,  in  a  more  personal 
manner,  "  it  is  evident  I  did  you  infinite 
wrong.  Spare  my  teeth,  for  I  have  a  pretty 
smile  (or,  so  the  ladies  say),  and  I  will  make 
the  handsome  admission  that  you  have  no 
reason  on  this  road,  or  off  it  either." 

So  very  uneasy  became  the  degenerate 
Duval  under  Mr.  O'Hara's  playful  banter 
that  it  was  quite  obvious  that  he  hesitated 
between  instant  flight  or  instant  attack. 
Choler,  however,  had  the  better  of  him.  A 
threatening  gleam  appeared  in  his  eye;  his 
long  pistol  inclined  towards  an  attitude  to 
match.  Denis  instantly  pushed  the  mare 
sidling  a  pace  nearer.  In  proportion  to  her 
advance  the  stranger  drew  his  exhausted 
horse    stumbling    obliquely    away. 

"  That  is,  no  doubt,  a  remarkable  weapon 
of  yours,  sir,"  quoth  Lord  Kilcroney's  heir 
in  that  tone  of  delicate,  taunting  irony  that 
was  so  wasted  here.     "  Must  have  been  used 

[.06] 


LITTLE     RED     HEELS 


at  Blenheim.  Old  fashioned,  but  useful,  no 
doubt.  Fie  on  it,  though,  for  its  useless 
length  of  nose !  A  long  nose,  sir,  is  a  mis- 
take, if  you  can  avoid  it  —  in  a  pistol,  I 
mean.  What  would  you  think  now,  I  won- 
der, of  the  build  of  this  pretty  one?"  And 
Mr.  O'Hara  (who  had  been  holding  his  ad- 
versary with  a  fierce,  dilating  eye,  almost  as 
round  as  a  pistol-rim  in  its  wide-opened  lids) 
here,  with  a  swift  and  elegant  motion  of  his 
long,  gauntleted  right  hand,  extracted  the 
easy-sitting  pistol,  and,  in  his  turn,  balanced 
it  with  as  much  significance  as  the  bully,  but 
a  vast  more  of  elegance. 

"  Rigby's  latest  pattern,  sir.  The  creature 
has  a  pretty  voice.  Hark  to  it  clear  its 
throat!"  As  he  spoke,  he  set  the  cock,  and 
the  click  rang  sharp  and  musical.  "  I  can 
recommend  Rigby,  of  Dublin  Town.  With 
a  Rigby,  sir,  a  gentleman  can  have  reasons 
on  the  road." 

"  Can  he  ?  can  he,  sir  ?  can  he  ? "  ex- 
claimed the  rider,  with  a  sudden  blustering 
outburst,  as  uncertain  in  its  aim  as  the 
wavering  weapon  in  his  hand  —  "can  he? 
And  gentleman,  forsooth !  I  '11  have  you 
know  by  —  by  —  and,  by  Hell!  that,  gentle- 
man or  no  gentleman,  no  one  has   right  or 

[  107  ] 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS 


reason,  on  this  road  when  I  ride.  When  I 
ride,  d'ye  hear?  And  that  by  ancient  rules 
of  the  High  Toby!" 

"Rules  of  the  High  Toby!"  echoed 
O'Hara,  vastly  entertained  by  the  sound  of 
the  unknown  cant.  "  High  Toby,  sir.f*  Any 
connection  with  little  Toby  Philpott  ?  "  cried 
he.  "  Yet,  if  I  take  your  meaning,  a  some- 
what more  dangerous  person.  An  acquaint- 
ance like  enough  to  lead  on  to  the  Jug! 
Eh.'*  Rules  of  High  Toby,  say  you?  Will 
they  not  bring  a  man  so  high  that  he  may 
end  by  dancing  on   air?" 

"  'Sdeath  !  "  cried  the  Knight  of  the  Road, 
and  grew  grey  all  but  his  copper  nose.  Upon 
which,  to  nerve  himself,  he  called  upon  fury 
ao^ain.  But  all  the  time  his  friijhtened  hare 
of  an  eye  fluttered  from  O'Hara's  pistol  back 
to  the  road  that  dipped  into  the  valley. 
"  The  devil  is  in  your  flummery  !  "  he  yelled. 
"  No  gentleman,  I  say,  shall  ride  on  my  road, 
as  I  '11  very  soon  show  you." 

He  wrenched  at  his  horse's  reins,  but  the 
wretched  creature,  in  the  vain  effort  to  answer 
his  master's  call,  faltered,  floundered,  and 
nearly  fell.  In  the  midst  of  his  flying  oaths 
O'Hara  noted  once  again  the  covetous  gaze 
enveloping  his  own  splendid  mount. 

[io8] 


LITTLE     RED     HEELS 


"  Aha !"  cried  the  alert  gentleman  to  him- 
self. "So 'tis  the  mare  he 's  after  !  "  And 
instantly,  by  a  twist  of  the  reins  and  a  spur 
of  the  heel,  Mr.  O'Hara  whisked  round  upon 
his  adversary,  flanking  out  of  the  line  of  the 
pistol  just  as  this  latter  was,  at  last,  brought 
to  a  decided  point. 

"  So  that 's  the  game  ?  "  he  cried,  with  the 
exultation  that  any  prospect  of  conflict  never 
failed  to  bring  him.  "  A  match,  brother 
Turpin,  a  match !  Barker  for  barker,  my 
Rigby  against  your  Long-nose.  I  refer,  sir, 
to  that  interesting  heirloom  of  good  Queen 
Anne's  days,  your  pistol." 

But  the  aggrieved  highwayman,  apparently, 
was  not  used  to  take  professional  work  in  so 
light-hearted  a  manner;  the  intruder's  airy 
agility  of  wit  disconcerted  him  even  more 
than  his  steadiness  of  hand  and  the  nimble- 
ness  of  his  equitation.  Again  he  hesitated, 
again  flung  a  darkling  look  upon  the  coveted 
steed.  Then,  to  O'Hara's  mingled  disap- 
pointment and  amusement,  muttering  be- 
tween his  teeth  a  handsomely  larded  phrase 
to  the  effect  of  his  having  no  time  to  waste  on 
fools,  fairly  turned  tail  and  set  off  along  the 
grey  road  at  the  best  of  his  sorry  nag's  speed. 
And  ever  and  anon  the  backward  look! 

[  109] 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS^^ 


It  was  this  backward  look  that  kept  Denis 
from  pricking  in  pursuit. 

"  Why,  the  creature 's  no  more  liver  on 
him  than  a  white  rabbit !"  cried  he  dolefully 
as  he  watched  him  out  of  si2:ht. 

O 
■  •••••  •• 

Nevertheless,  for  all  its  disappointing  issue, 
this  little  encounter  had  pleasantly  enlivened 
Mr.  O'Hara.  He  started  down  the  hill  at  a 
brisk  trot. 

"  I  smell  snow,"  said  he,  and  thought 
of  the  "  Pelican  "  a  few  miles  ahead  —  a 
hostelry  he  was  well  acquainted  with — and 
of  a  ruddy  fire  and  a  steaming  brew. 

Upon  the  lower  level  he  passed  once  more 
into  the  land  of  hedges  and  fields ;  rode 
under  the  shade  of  Dunstan  Park  woods, 
naked,  yet  sheltering.  There,  upon  ground 
where  the  frost  had  not  lain,  and  the  step- 
ping was  softer,  between  ditches  full  of  sod- 
den, pungent  leaves,  the  mare  broke  into  a 
joyous  canter  to  the  tune  of  a  fresh  dance 
of  little  red  heels  in  the  rider's  heart. 

And  thus  cantering,  they  came  at  the  turn 
of  the  road  upon  a  high,  yellow  chaise  that 
travelled  in  the  direction  of  Newbury,  at 
a  melancholy  and  uncertain  rate.  O'Hara 
would    have    sped    past    without    bestowing 

[mo] 


LITTLE     RED     HEELS    11 


.1^ 


more  than  a  glance  but  for  the  sounds  of 
wrangling  which  rose  loud  into  the  wintry 
silence  —  wrangling  in  the  midst  of  which 
something  familiar,  in  a  pipy  voice  and  an 
affected,  mincing  speech,  seemed  to  strike 
his  ear.  He  wheeled  Red  Beauty  suddenly 
round.  A  surly-looking  post-boy,  with  eyes 
well-nigh  as  furtive  as  those  of  his  recent 
road  acquaintance,  pulled  the  horses  to  a 
standstill. 

"  By  my  noble  fathers'  thirst,  whom  have 
we  here  .f^  "  cried  O'Hara. 

The  clamour  in  the  gig  was  succeeded  by 
a  hush.  Then  :  "  Oh,  lord  !  "  rose  a  voice, 
quavering  in  terror,  "  is  this  another  of 
them }  "  Upon  which,  the  shrill  accents 
which  O'Hara  seemed  to  have  recognised 
cut  in,  acid:  "Get  out  your  pistals,  paltroon. 
A  carse  on  my  good  nature  —  that  I  should 
have  ever  have  cansarted  with  a  City  dag! 
Rat  you,  you  mast  do  the  fighting,  this 
time !  " 

"Spoicer!  as  I  live!  'T  is  Spoicer  !"  ex- 
claimed Lord  Kilcroney's  heir,  with  a  great 
burst  of  laughter.  Through  the  window  a 
long,  lean,  deathlike  face  was  gingerly  pro- 
truded. At  sight  of  rider  it  broke  into  a 
sickly  smile. 

[Ill] 


^INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS^ 

"  Tare  and  'ouns,  man!  "  Mr.  O'Hara  called 
out,  "  what 's  up  with  you  ?  You  look  like 
a  fresh-made  corpse !  'T  is  n't  considerate  to 
susfsrest  a  wake  when  there 's  not  a  bottle 
within  miles." 

"I've  been  wounded,  Mr.  O'Hara," 
responded  the  gentleman  with  dignity. 
"Stapped  in  broad  daylight,  too,  set  apon, 
rabbed,  wounded " 

He  raised  his  right  arm,  bound  with  a 
blood-stained  napkin,  nursing  it  upon  his 
left  hand  for  O'Hara's  inspection.  But  if 
he  expected  sympathy,  he  was  disappointed. 
O'Hara  gave  a  long  whistle.  This  explained 
the  re-loading  performance  of  Copper-nose! 
A  calf-like  bleat  of  terror  from  within  the 
chaise  brought  him  back  to  the  present 
circumstances. 

"  Come,  Spicer,"  quoth  he,  "  let  us  see 
what  you  've  got  in  there.  Something  young 
and  tender  and  green,  as  usual,  I  '11  warrant ! 
A  gosling  with  some  lard  on  him,  I  '11  stake 
my  life,  or  you  would  not  be  his  bear-leader ! 
Come,  young  sir!"  knocking  jovially  with 
the  butt  of  his  whip  on  the  taut  leather  of 
the  hood.  "Show  yourself!  Your  money 
is  safe  from  me." 

"Money!"   responded   the  bleat,  pitifully, 

[II2] 


LITTLE    RED     HEELS 


while  its  owner  displayed  at  the  same  time 
a  pale,  silly,  flabby  visage  of  remarkable  im- 
maturity. 

"  Money,  sir ! "  echoed  Spicer,  again 
thrusting  himself  into  prominence.  "  Did 
I  not  tell  you,  man,  that  I  have  been  rabbed? 
Rabbed  of  near  everything,  sir.  We  have 
been  fallowed,  't  is  my  belief,  all  the  way 
from  Hounslow.  This  fool  would  prate  of 
our  gold  from  inn   to  inn " 

"  Now,"  thought  O'Hara,  "  the  story  un- 
folds. Now  is  made  plain  the  reason  of 
friend  Copper-nose's  foundered  nag !  A 
stern  chase  is  a  long  chase,  as  your  priva- 
teersman  has  it." 

Meanwhile  —  ''Our  money!  'T  was  my 
money!"  the  poor  calf  was  whimpering. 
"  Three  hundred  guineas  ...  in  a  sealskin 
bag  —  Aunt  Matilda's  legacy  —  all  gone,  all 


gone  ! " 


Now,  the  devil  would  have  it  that  Mr. 
O'Hara  must  always  see  the  joke  of  the 
situation.  No  sooner  had  this  moving  tale 
fallen  upon  his  ear  than  he  set  up  such  a 
laugh  that  the  very  crows  at  the  top  of 
Dunstan  trees  took  wing  with  scandalised 
cawing. 

That  Captain  Spicer,  the  ingenious  gentle- 

8  [113] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


man  whose  main  business  in  life  was  to  teach 
the  rich  greenhorn  the  ways  (and  byways)  of 
the  fashionable  world  —  a  business  requiring 
much  delicacy  of  handling,  but,  in  a  general 
way,  very  lucrative  indeed  —  that  Captain 
Spicer  should  thus  have  the  fruit  of  probably 
many  days'  diplomacy  whisked  away  from 
under  his  nose,  without  (as  the  Irishman 
phrased  it  to  himself)  as  much  as  a  bite. 
The  story  was  rich  ! 

"  '  Pon  my  soul,  Spicer,"  quoth  he,  "  I  'm 
sorry  for  you !  " 

He  glanced  at  the  surly  post-boy.  Then 
thouGfht  of  the  lonor-nosed  man  and  his 
friglitened  eye  —  and  laughed  again,  this 
time  scornfully. 

"  Scarce  the  crow  of  a  mouse  between  the 
two  of  them,  and  a  confederate  to  drive  the 
pair  and  send  notice!  Ha!  Copper-nose 
had  a  simple  job  here  .  .  .  but  he  had  a 
long  race  for  his  three  hundred  guineas. 
No  wonder  he  longed  for  my  Red  Beauty. 
Three  hundred  guineas,  and  but  a  dead  lame 
nag  to  scuttle  away  with  them  —  not  five 
miles  in   the  poor  beast  left." 

"  Little  thought  1,"  cried  the  led  captain, 
with  fresh  acrimony,  "  wlicn  I  canscnted  to 
give  the  creature  —  this  Haggins,  old   Hag- 

[■'4] 


LITTLE     RED     HEELS 


gins,  the  silversmith's  nephew,  pah  !  the  bene- 
fit of  my  campany  and  countenance  at  Bath, 
that  I  had  to  deal  with  a  coward  —  yes, 
Mr.  Haggins,  a  coward,  that  is  what  I 
said." 

"Zounds!"  cried  the  goaded  Huggins. 
"  You  screeched  out  that  you  were  murdered, 
Captain  Spicer,  sir!  And,  if  you  please, 
the  scoundrel's  pistol  was  at  my  head,  sir!" 

"  Whereupan,  sir,"  said  Spicer,  sneering 
hideously,  "  you  handed  him  your  sealskin 
bag,  as  palitely,  sir,  as  if  you  were  handing  a 
snaff-bax,  sir,  aver  your  father's  counter,  sir. 
But  it  serves  me  right,  for  candescending  to 
the  City 


"And  why,  Spicer,  why  ?  What  would  you 
expect  of  a  City  gentleman  but  counter 
courage  ?  "  cried  O'Hara  in  the  highest 
humour.  "Mr.  Huggins,  'tis  evident,  has 
been  brought  up  to  regard  life  from  the  safe 
side." 

He  had  perforce  to  supply  himself  the 
applause  to  his  own  quip,  for  neither  of  the 
combatants  saw  the  point. 

"  And  for  the  matter  of  that.  Captain 
Spicer,"  retorted  the  calf,  between  tears  and 
fury,  "  if  you  'd  shot  a  little  straighter  your- 
self, sir,  I  should  not  be  now " 

["5] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


"  'T  is  all  the  gratitude  I  get,  you  see, 
O'Hara.  Wounded,  grievously  wounded, 
and  talked  to,  by  Gad,  talked  to  by  this 
fallow  !  A  serious  wound,  O'Hara  —  nay,  two 
wounds  ;  for,  blast  me  if  the  rascal's  ball  did 
not  go  in  at  one  side  of  my  arm,  and  out  at 
the  ather ! " 

"  Went  out,  did  it,  now  ?  And  prodigious 
obliging  of  it!"  cried  the  cheerful  rider. 
"  'T  will  save  the  surgeon's  fee." 

"  Three  hundred  guineas  !  "  ejaculated 
Mr.  Huggins  again,  with  a  sudden  yelp,  as 
if  the  memory  of  his  wrongs  had  been  driven 
into  him  with  a  brad-awl. 

"Three  hundred  guineas!"  A  second  or 
two  Mr.  O'Hara  sat  stock  still  in  his  saddle, 
staring  across  the  chaise  towards  the  fields 
beyond.  A  few  feathery  white  flakes  came 
undulating  downwards  from  the  leaden  sky. 
Here  in  this  valley  road  there  was  shelter 
from  the  wind,  and  the  flakes  fell  fantastic 
slow.  His  brow  was  drawn  with  deep 
thought.  Presently  a  slow  smile  over- 
spread his  countenance. 

Within  the  chaise  the  pair  were  once  more 
at  their  wrangling.  Upon  his  patient  horse 
the  post-boy  with  the  uneasy  eye  sat  motion- 
less, the  image  of  sullen  waiting. 

[.i6] 


LITTLE     RED     HEELS 


"  Good  Gad,  man !  "  the  Captain  was  say- 
ing, "  will  you  never  have  dan  ?  And  by  the 
way,"  exclaimed  he  with  sudden  snarl,  "  rat 
me  if  I  know  what  we  are  loitering  here  for. 
Carse  that  post-boy !  Drive  on,  rascal,  will 
you ! 

Denis  awoke  from  his  abstraction  with 
a  start.  "  Farewell,  then,  my  lively  lads," 
quoth  he,  "  for  here  our  ways  diverge." 

And  then  it  was  instructive  to  hear  the 
gallant  captain  bestow  as  many  curses  on  the 
post-boy  for  starting  as  the  instant  before 
for  standing  still.  "  Split  him !  Rat  him 
and  for  ever  blast  him !  Did  he  not  see 
that  he  was  speaking  to  the  gentleman }  " 

"  Oh,  Denis ! "  next  quoth  he  in  piteous- 
ness,  "you  are  not  going  to  leave  us.f*" 

"  Why,  tare  and  ages  !  "  cried  the  Irishman 
in  contempt,  "(and  Denis  me  no  Denises,  if 
you  please.  Captain  Spicer!)  do  you  think 
you  will  be  stopped  for  your  beauty  next  ? 
Why,  there  is  your  post-boy  will  answer  to 
any  gentleman  of  the  road  that  you  're  not 
worth  the  stopping  —  eh,  friend.?"  He 
reached  the  lad  a  smart  tap  on  the  shoulder 
with  his  riding-whip,  whereat  that  individual 
let  fly  between  his  horse's  ears  a  growling 
asseveration   as    to    his    utter   ignorance   of 

["7] 


^^INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRSil 

what  the  gentleman  could  mean,  but  re- 
frained from  allowing  the  candour  of  his 
visage  to  be  scanned. 

"  Four  lonely  miles,"  groaned  Spicer,  "  and 
I  a  wounded  man  !  " 

"Why,  wliat  is  that  but  two  apiece  —  not 
to  speak  of  the  boy  and  the  horses  ?  "  cried 
O'Hara,  with  his  pitiless  laugh.  "  Sorry,  my 
noble  captain,  but  I  have  business  in  this 
neigjhbourhood." 

He  took  off  his  hat  with  a  splendid  flour- 
ish, wheeled  the  chestnut  abruptly  round  and 
up  a  by-lane,  and  was  off  at  so  brisk  a  pace 
that  before  the  dismal  travellers  in  the  chaise 
could  utter  another  protest  he  was  out  of 
their  sight. 

"  Unless  I  am  much  mistaken,"  reflected 
the  ingenious  gentleman,  "this  path  must 
lead  round  the  park  to  the  turnpike  again." 

And,  trul}^  out  on  the  turnpike  again  he 
came,  before  the  fast  falling  shades  of  the 
winter  nifrht  had  2:athered  to  much  more 
perceptible  density. 

"And  now,  Red  Beauty,  my  dainty  one," 
cried  he  to  his  mare,  as  he  shook  the  reins, 
and  the  mettled  beast  responded  instantly  by 
breaking  into  her  long,  easy  canter,  "'tis  a 
race    for    love,    when    all 's    said    and  done. 

[iiS] 


ilLITTLE     RED     HEELS^ 

And  as  good  a  joke,  aha!  as  ever  was  heard, 
into  the  bargain  !  Bravo,  my  lady!  Never  a 
touch  of  the  spur  shall  your  side  get  from 
me.  Why,  begorrah !  'tis  the  born  hunter 
you  are.  Give  me  the  red-haired  ones !  No 
wonder  Copper-nose  wanted  you." 


Having  breasted  the  long  ascent  from  the 
valley  in  easy  sprints  —  for,  keen  as  he  was 
upon  his  quarry,  O'Hara  was  too  true  a 
sportsman  to  press  a  willing  steed  —  they 
reached  again  those  bleak  wastes  appropri- 
ately dubbed  Cold  Ash,  and  then,  with  the 
wind  at  their  back,  let  fly  through  the  driv- 
ing dusk  at  topmost  speed.  Here  blew  a 
whistling  wind  that  scarce  permitted  a  snow- 
flake  to  fall,  while  the  laden  clouds  hung 
ever  closer  and  more  lowering  above  the 
darkening  land. 

It  was  that  dim  and  deceitful  hour  — 
"  'twixt  dog  and  wolf,"  as  the  French  have 
it  —  when  shadows  and  objects  are  inter- 
mingled and  outlines  lost.  Still  the  road 
stretched  straight,  a  paler  grey  amid  the 
deeper.  And  if,  once  or  twice,  the  chestnut 
shied,  it  was  but  when  some  distorted,  wind- 
nipped,  ragged  tree  seemed  to  leap,  black  at 
her,  out   of    the  world    of   shadows.     Denis 

["9j 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS^ 


found  the  situation  fitting  his  humour  —  he 
tasted  with  deHght  the  contrast  between 
his  whipped-up  blood  and  the  dead-cold 
approach  of  night,  between  the  desolation 
of  the  scene  and  his  own  luminous  fancies; 
the  rapid  motion,  of  itself  an  exhilaration ; 
and,  over  all,  the  sense  of  personal  danger, 
which  was  always  the  finest  spice  of  life  to 
him. 

"  But  another  mile  or  so,"  he  reckoned, 
"  my  beauty,  and  you  and  I  will  have  a  few 
more  words  to  say  to  this  High  Toby  gentle- 
man and  his  sorry  nag." 

The  chuckle  was  yet  on  his  lips  when  the 
swinging  pace  beneath  him  was  violently 
checked;  and  the  next  instant  the  chestnut, 
snorting  in  fury  and  fear,  was  rearing  from 
the  indignity  of  a  brutal  grasp  on  her  bridle. 
Denis  had  scarce  time  to  realise  that  the 
way  was  blocked  by  some  just  distinguish- 
able bulky  mass  —  a  dead  horse  :  it  seemed 
to  be  just  across  the  road  —  and  that  a 
man  had  sprung  at  his  mare's  head,  before 
a  husky  shout  commanded  him  to  dismount. 

"  Begorrah  ! "  cried  he,  "  and  is  it  on  the 
top  of  you  I  am,  before  I  'd  time  to  overtake 
you  ? " 

No  sooner  had  the  mockin"'    Irish   voice 

o 
[l20] 


^    LITTLE     RED     HEELS    ^ 

fallen  upon  the  air  than,  with  a  cursing 
"Oh!  it's  you,  is  it?"  the  man  gave  another 
furious  tug  at  the  bridle  and  at  the  same 
moment  fired.  A  hot  streak  of  flame 
passed,  singing,  close  above  O'Hara's  ear. 
Instandy,  with  the  joyous  alacrity  of  the 
born  fighter,  his  every  instinct  leaped  to 
the  emergency.  By  the  broad  yellow  flash 
he  had  seen,  painted  as  it  were  upon  the 
black  canvas  of  the  night,  a  vision  of  an 
evil,  haggard  countenance,  of  a  long,  red 
nose. 

"Now  we  know  where  we  are!  Steady!" 
quoth  he,  and  bent  over  on  the  side  of  his 
assailant.  "  Aha,  friend ! "  he  cried  with 
loud  exultation,  and  darted  out  a  quick  long 
arm.  Before  the  pistol  had  time  to  fall  from 
the  pointing,  he  had  seized  it  by  its  smoking 
long  barrel  and  wrenched  it  away.  "  Did  I 
not  tell  thee  that  long  noses  were  a  mis- 
take.?"   he  cried,  as  he   struck. 

The  heavy  butt  caught  the  highwayman 
between  the  eyes.  There  was  heard  the 
thud  of  his  fall  upon  the  road,  and  the  kind 
of  snuffling  sob  that  accompanied  it. 

Red  Beauty,  now  released,  made  a  very 
pretty  display  of  outraged  feeling,  which 
O'Hara,  understanding  equine  nature,   had, 

[121] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


however,  little  trouble  in  calming.  He  was 
soon  able  to  dismount. 

"  Troth  !  "  said  he,  fondling  her  neck,  "  't  is 
the  way  of  your  sex  to  carry  a  man  into 
danger,  and  't  is  the  way  of  ours  to  love  you 
the  more.  It 's  yourself  that  the  rogue 
coveted,  my  Red  Beauty,"  said  he ;  "  but 
you  were  never  foaled  to  carry  such  scum 
as  he." 

The  intelligent  creature  thrust  her  head 
towards  him  in  the  dark  and  lipped  his  cheek 
with  velvet  touch. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  answered  he,  "  that  was  a 
lucky  shy  of  yours!"  He  ran  his  hand 
across  his  ear,  and,  where  he  was  wont  to 
meet  the  crisp  bunch  of  curls  a  la  brigadiere, 
met  a  deplorable  flatness.  "  A  close  shave, 
by  thunder!  What  will  Kitty  think  of  this.? 
Well,  better  a  curl  than  a  life  .  .  .  You 
saved  us  both,  I  'm  thinking,"  he  went  on, 
again  flattering  the  mare's  neck.  "  Indeed, 
colleen,  it 's  borne  in  upon  me  that  we  were 
made  for  each  other.  And  if  that  sealskin 
bag  but  has  half  what  Spoicer  reckoned  on, 
why,  then,  you  and  I  shall  not  part." 

He  sluns:  the  reins  over  his  arms.  Red 
Beauty  was  now  all  tranquil  condescension. 
If   truth    were    told,    perhaps,    she    had  the 

[  122  ] 


^LITTLE     RED     HEELS^ 

curiosity  of  her  sex,  and  was  quite  aware 
that  something  interesting  was  afoot. 

Mr.  O'Hara  advanced  cautiously  towards 
the  smaller  of  the  indistinct  black  heaps, 
that  still  showed  vaguely  upon  the  pale 
roadway  in  spite  of  the  ever  deepening 
night.  He  knelt  down  and  passed  his  hand 
over  the  prostrate  figure. 

Not  dead  !  Well,  that  was  a  relief.  Denis 
was  of  those  who  think  little  enough  of  life 
or  death,  for  himself  or  for  others;  but  there 
was  not  in  him  the  stuff  of  the  executioner. 

"  He  '11  live  to  be  hanged  yet,"  said  he  to 
himself.  Certainly  not  dead.  And,  indeed, 
if  sundry  jerks  and  heaving  breaths  beneath 
his  touch,  sundry  grunts  that  met  his  ears, 
be  taken  as  indications.  Copper-nose  was 
rapidly  nearing  consciousness  again.  "  But 
'  't  were  well  't  were  done  quickly,'  as  little 
Davy  Garrick  says  in  the  play,"  muttered 
Denis.  And  running  the  reins  up  to  his 
shoulder,  he  now  brought  both  hands  to 
his  task.  "What's  this,  now?  The  fellow 
of  the  barker  that  snapped  at  me  in  the  belt ! 
There  now,  friend,  that  will  give  you  more 
room  to  breathe;  and  I'm  thinking,  anyhow, 
it 's  as  well  in  safe  keeping,"  he  murmured, 
slipping  the  man's  remaining  pistol  into  his 

[  123  ] 


^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^^ 


own  belt.  "  Ton  my  soul !  little  did  I  ever 
think  I  'd  come  to  take  a  purse,  and  off  a 
highwayman,  too.  Aha!  What  have  we 
here  ?  The  sealskin  bag,  as  I  live  !  Easy, 
now,  brother;  don't  be  groaning  that  way. 
It 's  not  a  ha'porth  of  harm  I  'm  doing  you 
but  relieving  your  conscience.  Faith,  I  've 
as  good  a  right  to  it  as  you,  this  night  .  .  . 
and  a  deal  better  than  Spicer  any  night  of 
the  year ! " 

His  fingers  were,  indeed,  in  contact  with  a 
smooth,  furry  surface,  under  which  rose  a 
succession  of  hard  little  cylinders.  This  set 
his  hand  trembling. 

"  The  little  gold  boys  —  or  may  I  never 
fight  again !  " 

The  bag  was  strapped  to  the  man's  leather 
belt,  and  to  get  at  it  required  some  manipu- 
lation. Master  Copper-nose,  moreover,  pres- 
ently began  to  struggle;  and  O'Hara,  who 
up  to  this  moment  had  been  perhaps  a  little 
half-hearted  about  the  rifling  business,  now 
becanie  exhilarated  to  interest,  and  set  to 
work  C071  a77tore.  Hampered  as  he  was  by 
Red  Beauty's  reins,  it  was  after  a  pretty 
severe  wrestling  match  that  he  succeeded  in 
drawing  his  hanger,  cutting  the  recalcitrant 
straps,  and  possessing  himself  triumphantly 

[>^4] 


LITTLE     RED     HEELS 


of  the  weighty  bag.  The  highwayman  gave 
a  despairing  howl  as  he  suddenly  realised 
that  the  fruit  of  his  long  day's  work  was 
finally  reft  from  him.  He  made  a  wild 
clutch  at  his  rival  when  the  latter  rose  to 
his  feet :  but  his  fingers,  in  the  dark,  struck 
against  cold  steel. 

"  Give  it  up,  man ! "  came  those  laughing 
tones  that  from  the  very  first  had  filled 
him  with  hatred  and  yet  superstitious  fear. 
"  Give  it  up,  brother  of  the  High  Toby, 
unless  you  've  got  another  pair  of  heirlooms 
to  match  your  nose." 

The  man  had  staggered  up.  Nothing  but 
shadows  were  they  now  to  each  other  in  the 
universal  blackness  ;  but  each  could  hear  the 
other's  breathing.  O'Hara's  was  caught  with 
exultant  laughter;  the  highwayman's  was 
stertorous  with  impotent  fury.  To  emphasise 
his  remarks,  then,  Denis  playfully  drew  the 
captured  pistol  from  his  belt  and  clicked  the 
lock  meaningly.  And  upon  this  there  was 
a  crash  as  of  some  wild  animal  plunging  into 
cover,  a  stumbling  rush  of  feet,  sounds  of 
flight,  quickly  carried  away  on  the  wings  of 
the  wind. 

As  O'Hara  stood  listening,  the  blast  fled 
by  him  over  the  hill  and  left  a  deep  inter- 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS 


lude  of  silence  in  which  he  could  catch  no 
sound  but  Red  Beauty's  soft,  inquisitive 
breathing:  at  his  elbow.  He  sent  a  loud 
laugh  after  the  retreating  knight,  then  he 
weicfhed  the  bao^  in  his  hands. 

"Three  hundred  guineas,  they  said!  I'd 
have  been  lucky  if  I  'd  got  the  half  of  it  in 
the  Old  Country!  .  .  .  That's  back  to  Kitty! 
She  will  have  had  time  to  miss  me,  not  time 
to  replace  me.  Glory  be  to  God  !  "  cried 
Denis   O'Hara. 

But  now,  being  a  man  of  money,  a  man  of 
worth,  Mr.  O'Hara  became  mighty  cautious. 
The  first  thing  to  be  done  was  to  distribute 
the  rouleaux  among  his  various  pockets  and 
cast  the  now  limp  recipient  into  the  roadside 
ditch.  The  next  was  to  decide  upon  his 
own  movements.  Restrainino:,  thouc^h  not 
without  a  sigh,  his  natural  inclination,  which 
was  London  wards,  he  turned  Red  Beauty's 
head  towards  Speenhamland,  near  Newbury, 
the  nearest  halt,  and  was  for  mounting  once 
more,  when  he  paused. 

"There's  the  poor  comrade  yonder," 
quoth  he,  "  whom  we  must  not  leave  in 
extremity,  if  he 's  not  past  help.  We  owe 
him  that,  colleen."  And  leading  the  mare, 
he  retraced  his  steps  once  more.    Red  Beauty 

[126] 


LITTLE     RED     HEELS^ 


craned  her  neck  and  drew  deeper  breaths  of 
sympathy  over  the  body  of  her  fallen  brother. 

"  Aye,"  said  O'Hara,  after  a  second's 
examination,  "stone  dead.  His  heart 's  broke, 
my  colleen,  and  well  for  it.  And  if  I  've 
left  my  mark  on  Copper-nose,  't  is  no  more 
than  he  deserves." 

But  it  was  high  time  that  Denis  O'Hara 
should  place  himself,  his  borrowed  steed,  and 
captured  wealth  under  shelter.  The  snow- 
storm was  gathering  and  the  winds  on  these 
high,  bleak  lands  came  charged  with  stinging 
flakes. 

"  We  '11  take  it  steady,  but  easy  and 
cautious,  love,"  said  he,  once  more  swinging 
himself  into  the  saddle. 

At  the  door  of 

The  famous  inn  in  Speenhamland 

That  stands  below  the  hill. 
And  rightly  called  "  The  Pelican," 

From  its  enormous  bill 

(as  a  wit  of  the  period  sang  of  that  excellent 
house  of  entertainment),  came  a  red-haired 
traveller  upon  a  red-coated  mare,  both  some- 
what the  worse  for  a  difficult  journey  in  the 
dark  through  a  settled  snowstorm. 

[  127  ] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


Perished  though  he  was,  O'Hara,  whose 
soft  heart  had  ached  over  the  fate  of  the 
highwayman's  steed,  would  be  content  to- 
night to  let  no  one  see  to  his  mare  except 
himself.  Having,  therefore,  seen  her  rubbed 
down  to  his  own  satisfaction,  seen  her  at 
last  stand  in  the  best  stall  up  to  her  belly 
in  golden  straw;  having  coaxed  her  to  her 
feed  with  a  warm  mash,  and  satisfied  himself 
that  the  capricious  lady  had  really  a  good 
appetite  in  spite  of  some  coquetting,  he 
passed  into  the  hostelry. 

Here  he  was  not  an  unknown  oruest.  The 
length  of  the  "  Pelican's  "  bill  was  no  deter- 
rent to  him  :  when  he  had  a  guinea,  he  spent 
it  with  the  delightful  ease  of  the  impecunious, 
where  another  would  haggle  over  a  shilling. 
Thus  it  was  with  the  familiarity  of  the  inti- 
mate that,  cocking  his  hat  so  as  to  conceal 
the  loss  of  the  curl,  upon  which  he  desired 
no  question,  he  marched  straight  from  the 
stable  into  the  kitchen,  where  he  knew  he 
would  find  a  roaring  sea-coal  fire,  for  the 
comforting  of  the  chilled  and  sodden  outer 
man ;  where  he  would  furthermore  be  able 
to  choose  on  the  spot  the  particular  refresh- 
ment that  seemed  best  suited  for  the  cheer- 
ins:  of  the  inner. 

[128] 


'& 


^    LITTLE    RED     HEELS    ^ 

Now,  the  first  object  that  met  his  airy 
glance,  as  he  advanced  into  the  rosy  circle 
flung  out  by  the  glowing  hearth,  was  the 
dubious  post-boy  of  the  yellow  chaise,  shovel- 
ling rabbit-pie  into  his  own  anatomy  with  as 
much  gusto  as  might  the  most  honest  of 
Britons.  The  next  instant,  he  beheld,  seated 
in  an  attitude  of  utmost  dejection,  supporting 
an  elaborately  curled  wig  upon  a  limp  fist, 
no  less  interesting  a  person  than  the  whilom 
owner  of  the  guinea  rolls.  So  unexpected 
was  the  encounter,  Newbury  having  been 
the  declared  destination  of  the  yellow  chaise, 
that  for  the  moment  it  had  the  remarkable 
effect  of  depriving  Mr,  O'Hara  of  speech. 

Suddenly,  however,  interrupting  mine  host 
upon  the  eulogy  of  spiced  veal-pie  and  wood- 
cock on  toast  to  follow,  he  strode  up  to  the 
table  and  tapped  it  with  his  riding-whip  in 
front  of  Spicer's  disconsolate,  plucked,  and 
now  useless,  pigeon. 

"  Have  we  not  met  before,  sir } " 

Mr.  Huggins  looked  up  with  a  dismal, 
unillumined  eye,  and  evidently  failed  to 
recognise  the  speaker.  The  post-boy  became 
more  absorbed  than  ever  in  his  supper. 

"Surely,"  went  on  Mr.  O'Hara,  "you  are 
the  traveller  whom  I  encountered  this  after- 
9  [129] 


|§|INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS|^ 

noon.  Some  little  misadventure,  1  under- 
stand, had  just  befallen  you." 

"  Little  misadventure !  Aye,  sir,  I  had 
just  been  robbed  —  all  I  had  !  "  said  the  poor 
youth,  with  dull,  unconscious  irony. 

The  landlord  had  followed  O'Hara's  move 
with  some  curiosity. 

"  I  've  offered  the  young  man  to  make  him 
a  present  of  supper  and  bed,"  he  here  ob- 
served in  tones  of  important  philanthropy, 
"  but  he  declines  to  partake." 

Mr.  O'Hara  wheeled  round  upon  him  with 
some  sternness.  A  man  is  never  more  dis- 
posed to  rebuke  his  neighbour  as  when  his 
own  conscience  is  slightly  uncomfortable. 

"And  pray,  Mr.  Landlord,  how  comes  it 
that  you  have  stationed  this  young  gentleman 
in  the  kitchen  with  his  own  post-boy.''  " 

The  landlord  entered  into  a  prodigious 
state  of  surprise  and  discomfiture.  He 
plumed  himself — indeed,  with  some  truth 
—  on  having  an  instinct  for  a  gentleman; 
and  knew  that  brocade  and  lace  did  not  suf- 
fice to  the  making  of  one.  He  stammered 
a  hasty  apology,  turning  from  the  discon- 
solate youth  in  his  rich  City  garb  to  the 
mud-spattered,  plain-coated  Irishman,  whose 
genial,  clean-cut  face  was  just  now  as  haughty 

[  130] 


LITTLE     RED     HEELS 


as  ever  any  English  peer's  could  be.  He 
had  not  known.  It  was  a  strange  story. 
It  was  very  clear  the  young  gentleman  (Mr. 
Huggins  was  promoted ! )  could  not  pay 
shot.  And  Captain  Spicer  (who  had  gone 
to  bed  in  the  best  room  upstairs,  with 
every  attention  for  his  wound)  Captain 
Spicer,  whom  probably  Mr.  O'Hara  knew, 
had  warned  the  landlord  that  he  disclaimed 
all  pecuniary  responsibility. 

"Captain  Spicer!"  ejaculated  O'Hara,  with 
such  a  twist  of  contempt  on  his  lips  that 
mine  host  of  the  "  Pelican "  perceived  that 
he  was  here  on  the  wrong  track,  and  quickly 
abandoned  it.  "  If  he  had  known  that  the 
Honourable  Mr.  O'Hara,  son  of  that  well- 
known  and  admirable  nobleman  my  Lord 
Kilcroney,  took  an  interest " 

Again  O'Hara  cut  him  short.  With  an 
impatient  wave  of  his  hand,  "  That  '11  do !  " 
cried  he.  "  Had  you  known  Mr.  Huggins's 
consequence,  you  'd  have  stripped  your  breast 
bare  for  him  —  would  you  not,  you  old  Peli- 
can, you  } " 

Mr.  Huggins,  on  his  side,  hearing  of  the 
consequence  of  his  interpellator;  was  no  whit 
less  obsequiously  moved  than  his  grudging 
host. 

[131] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


"  The  Hon.  Mr.  O'Hara!  "  quoth  he,  rising 
to  his  feet  and  making  a  series  of  City  legs. 
"  I  am  honoured,  sir,  vastly  honoured."  Then, 
with  a  return  of  his  first  bleat:  "Your  friend, 
sir.  Captain  Spicer,  has  abandoned  me." 

Thereupon  ensued  a  rambling  statement, 
in  which  the  tedium  of  a  silversmith's  life, 
the  relief  of  Aunt  Matilda's  legacy,  were 
intermingled  with  lamentations  upon  the 
hard  fate  that  had  overtaken  him :  the  pros- 
pect of  an  immediate  return  to  desk  and 
grind. 

O'Hara  stood  gazing  at  him  in  his  un- 
wontedly  cogitative  mood.  "Sure,"  he  was 
thinking,  "  it  would  be  doing  an  owl  of  that 
kidney  no  good  turn  to  give  him  back  the 
money.  .  .  .  What  would  the  green-goose 
do  with  it  but  make  an  ass  of  himself  — 
and  him  that  already  ?  " 

Aloud  he  bade  the  landlord  serve  up 
supper  for  two  in  the  parlour,  and  then, 
informing  Mr.  Huggins  that  he  would  expect 
him  in  a  cjuarter  of  an  hour,  turned  away 
abruptly  to  avoid  the  gratitude  that  overcame 
the  young  cit. 

•  ••••••• 

A  genial  meal  loosens  the  tongues  of  even 
uncongenial  companions ;    and   Mr.  O'Hara 

[  132] 


LITTLE     RED     HEELS 


was  not  of  the  kind  to  make  any  guest  of  his 
feel  the  inferiority  of  social  station.  Never- 
theless, had  the  post-boy  been  but  a  more 
lively  sort  of  rascal,  the  Irishman  would  no 
doubt  have  preferred  his  society  to  that  of 
the  little  vulgar,  pasty-faced  clerk. 

After  a  bumper  or  two,  a  kind  of  sparkle 
had  come  to  the  latter's  watery  eye.  And, 
freed  from  his  first  hampering  assumption  of 
fine  manners,  he  began  to  let  his  tongue  wag 
with  all  its  native  impudence  and  folly. 
Between  the  picking  of  the  last  woodcock 
bone  and  the  cracking  of  the  first  walnut, 
Mr.  O'Hara  was  made  the  recipient  of  his 
innermost  confidences. 

"  Young  Calico  's  a  rip,  begorrah  !  of  the 
first  water  —  first  gutter  water  !  The  cock  of 
the  tavern,  the  buck  of  Cheapside  wenches!" 
Upon  this  summary  of  his  guest,  Mr.  O'Hara 
—  a  silk  handkerchief  tied  over  his  mutilated 
curl — leant  back  in  his  chair  and  surveyed 
him  through  half-closed  lids  with  something 
of  pity  mixed  with  his  contempt. 

"And  by  goles  !  "  Mr.  Huggins  was  say- 
ing, as  he  reached  unceremoniously  for  the 
bottle,  "  I  can  give  you  as  good  a  song, 
though  I  say  it,  as  any  lad  of  ours  among 
the  '  Harmonious  Owls.'  " 

[  ^33  1 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


"Harmonious  Owls?"  inquired  O'Hara, 
tickled  as  was  his  wont  by  any  picturesque 
combination  of  words. 

"  Aye,  my  boy !  —  Honourable  sir,  I  mean 

—  'tis  our  club  in  Little  Britain.  A  set  of 
fellows,  oh !  they  could  show  you  a  bit  of 
life!  We  meet  o'  Saturday  nights.  Aye, 
and  there 's  the  '  Bleeding  Cross- Bones,' 
down  Knightrider  Lane.  That  is  a  club ! 
There  's  play  at  '  the  Bones,'  sir,  I  tell  you," 
said  Mr.  Huggins,  leaning  forward  and 
speaking  in  a  husky  whisper.  "  I  won  nine 
guineas  there,  one  night.  At  single  sitting, 
sir. 

"  Thunder  and  turf !  say  you  so?  " 
"  I  could  give  you  a  bit    of   a  new  song 
that  took  them  mightily  among  the  Howls 

—  the  Owls,   I   should  say." 

Mr.  O'Hara  sat  quickly  up  in  his  chair 
and  flung  out  a  forbidding  hand,  as  Mr. 
Huggins  uplifted  a  dismal  voice  and  car- 
olled :  — 

"  Oh,  where  is  the  harm  of  a  little  kiss  — 
One,  one,  only  one  ? 
And  what  can  the  heart " 

"Peace!"  cried  the  Irishman  with  loud 
authority,  slapping  the  table  with   his  open 

[>J4] 


^    LITTLE     RED     HEELS ^ 

hand.  And  as  the  other  stared,  open- 
mouthed,  round-eyed  :  "  'T  is  my  infirmity, 
sir,"  proceeded  Denis  more  civilly.  "  Music, 
somehow,  turns  my  wine  sour  on  me.  It 
comes,  Mr.  Huggins,  doubtless,  from  an 
error  in  my  upbringing;  my  head  was  not 
made  early  enough.  I  'm  obliged  to  con- 
centrate, sir,  to  give  my  attention  to  the 
bottle." 

While  gravely  dealing  out  this  farrago, 
which  had  the  desired  effect  of  completely 
nonplussing  the  young  man,  Mr.  O'Hara's 
wits  were  busy  upon  a  little  scheme  sug- 
gested by  a  chance  boast  of  his  companion. 
One  might,  after  all,  get  an  hour  or  two  of 
entertainment  out  of  the  back-street  buck,  if 
't  were  true  he  was  such  a  rufifler  at  the  dice 
and  the  cards.  "  And  if  this  jot-down- 
nought-and-carry-one  has,  as  he  says,  swept 
the  mighty  sum  of  nine  guineas  from  his 
fellow  'prentices,  he  's  as  good  a  chance  of 
winning  his  three  hundred  from  me!" 

There  was  a  quaintness  about  the  idea 
that  pleased  Mr.  O'Hara  prodigiously.  And, 
indeed,  he  would  not  have  been  O'Hara  had 
not  the  temptation  of  putting  all  his  fortunes 
to  the  hazard  again  been  irresistible. 

"  Upon  my  soul !  "  he  exclaimed  suddenly. 

[•35] 


^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^ 

"  but  you  're  a  young  gentleman  of  pro- 
digious accomplishment!  And  what,  Mr. 
Huggins,  may  I  inquire,  is  your  favourite 
game  ? " 

"  Why,"  cried  the  clerk,  "  I  am  reckoned, 
sir,  dangerous  at  piquet.  And  there  are 
many,  sir,  who  had  rather  be  my  partner  at 
whist.  But  w^hen  the  humour  is  on  me  to 
play  high,"  said  Master  Huggins,  tossing 
down  the  end  of  his  glass  with  a  knowing 
turn  of  wrist,  "then  nothing,  to  my  mind, 
comes  up  to  faro;  though  basset,  indeed,  and 
ombre,  and  lanterloo,  and  quinze,  are  reck- 
oned fair  games,  and  also  lansquenet, 
quadrille,   and " 

"  Nay,"  said  O'Hara,  breaking  the  chain, 
"  I  am  with  you.  Faro  is  a  pretty  game 
—  between  gentlemen.  Faro  's  the  game  ! 
What  say  you  to  a  deal  or  two  ? " 

"  By  goles  ! "  cried  the  clerk,  and  a  greedy 
joy  spread  over  his  countenance,  "  but  you  're 
a  gentleman  after  my  own  heart ! "  Then 
he  suddenly  clapped  his  hands  against  his 
pockets,  and  his  jaw  dropped.  "Ud's 
bones!  I  was  forgetting!  Cleaned  out! 
Unless  you  will  throw  with  me  for  my  but- 
tons—  silver,  on  my  honour,  and  a  pretty 
fancy " 

[■36] 


^    LITTLE     RED     HEELS    ^ 

"  Oh,  pooh,  Mr.  Huggins  !  "  cried  O'Hara, 
"  between  gentlemen  !  Sir,  your  misadven- 
ture might  have  occurred  to  anyone  —  to 
anyone  of  your  constitutional  modesty. 
You  've  learned  that  't  is  a  mistake  to  be  at 
all  backward  in  coming  forward  when  the 
call  is  pistols,  that 's  all !  I  shall  be 
charmed  to  oblige  you,  sir,  by  the  loan  of  a 
few  pieces.  The  note  of  hand  of  so  well 
known  a  person  as  yourself  is  as  good  as  the 
Bank,  I  've  no  doubt.  Shall  it  be,  to  begin 
with,  a  trifle  of  ten  ? " 

"  Oh,  make  it  a  guinea,  sir,"  said  the  dash- 
ing cit  in  superior  tones. 

"  Now,  here 's  a  lad  of  spirit ! "  cried 
O'Hara,  breaking  into  loud  laughter.  "  By 
my  father's  last  bottle,  sir!  I  like  your 
humour!  " 

He  swept  a  clear  space  on  the  table  as  he 
spoke,  and  spread  thereupon,  in  shining 
array,  ten  of  Verney's  guineas.  "  I  'm  a 
bad  arithmetician,"  he  went  on ;  "I  've  not 
had  your  education,  and  it  comes  easier  to 
me  to  reckon  in  gold  coin.  —  Will  you  hold 
the  bank,  or  shall  I  ?  " 

Gog  and  Magog  !  How  their  bold,  'pren- 
tice son  kept  up  the  credit  of  City  valour  and 

[  137] 


^INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS^i 

pledged  his  own  that  winter  night,  at  the 
"  PeHcan,"  Speenham,  on  the  Bath  road  !  At 
first,  indeed,  he  won  ;  and  all  that  were  left 
of  my  Lord  Verney's  thirty  guineas  found 
themselves  heaped  in  a  pile  by  the  side  of 
his  glass.  And  Mr.  O'Hara  (enjoying  him- 
self hugely)  began  to  see  the  moment  when 
he  would  have  surreptitiously  to  break  one 
of  those  rouleaux  that  lay  so  snug  in  his 
pockets. 

But  it  seemed  fated  that  Aunt  Matilda's 
legacy  was  not  to  benefit  her  gay  young  dog 
of  a  nephew  ;  for,  from  the  moment  when  it 
was  likely  to  come  once  more  into  action, 
the  luck  turned.  And  first  my  Lord  Ver- 
ney's guineas  found  their  way  back  to  Mr. 
O'Hara's  side  of  the  table.  Then  a  bun- 
dle of  L  O.  U.'s  began  to  grow  beneath 
that  gentleman's  elbow  —  the  earlier  ones 
neatly  engrossed  in  Mr.  Muggins's  most 
clerkly  hand,  those  succeeding  growing  wilder 
and  wilder  as  that  gentleman's  spirits  ap- 
proached desperation.  They  called  for  more 
wine ;  they  called  for  fresh  candles.  Rouleau 
by  rouleau,  the  travelled  gold  passed  de  jure 
into  the  pockets  where  it  already  reposed 
de  facto. 

"Your  luck's  bitter  bad,  my  young  friend. 

[138] 


^LITTLE     RED     HEELS^ 

Have  you  ever  tried,  at  the  '  Bleeding  Bones,' 
what  the  turning  of  your  coat  will  do  for 
you  ?  'T  is  a  practice  you  may  on  occasion 
see  at  White's." 

It  took  the  muddled  wits  of  the  city-bred 
youth  a  full  minute  to  grasp  the  purport  of 
this  advice.  When,  however,  he  had  done 
so,  he  carried  it  out  with  such  tipsy  precipi- 
tation, and  the  figure  he  cut  when  the  change 
was  at  last  effected  and  he  sat  down  once 
more,  clad  in  the  bright  red  lining,  was  so 
exquisitely  comic,  that  Mr.  O'Hara  fell  into 
inextinguishable  laughter. 

"  Glory  be  to  God,"  said  he.     "  If  that  does 

not  propitiate  the  Fates !     Why,  't  is  a 

little  Lord  Mayor  you  're  destined  to  be,  and 
no  mistake  ! " 

"  Paroly  !  I  '11  go  paroly  !  "  cried  the 
future  Lord  Mayor  in  a  thick  voice,  falling 
once  more  upon  his  cards  with  a  froglike 
plunge. 

"Devil  mend  you!"  muttered  O'Hara  to 
himself.  "  You  'd  go  St.  Paul's  and  the  Bank 
of  England  on  the  value  of  a  lock  of  your 
hair!  Here  has  the  green  calf  lost  his  Aunt 
Matilda's  legacy  twice,  and  he  '11  double  or 
quits  me  with  never  a  stiver  to  stake !  But, 
by   the    Lord!     I'll    do    it — and    win    my 

[  ^39] 


i^INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


XiZ 


chances  with  Kitty  for  the  third  time! 
'  There 's  luck  in  odd  numbers,'  says  Rory 
O'More !  "  And  aloud  :  "  Done  with  you, 
my  gay  punter !  " 

The  cards  were  shuffled   and   a2:ain  dealt 

upon  the  table. And  Mr.  Huggins  gazed, 

horror-struck. 

Then,  in  the  silence,  Mr.  O'Hara  poured 
himself  the  last  glass  and  tossed  it  down. 
For  a  "  head  that  had  not  been  made 
early,"  his  had  a  wonderful  capacity  for  re- 
maining on  the  intelligent  side  of  exhilara- 
tion through  a  very  mighty  potation.  But 
then  (as  he  would  explain  to  the  neophyte) 
"you  can  get  through  a  deal  of  claret  with 
the  help  of  a  bottle  of  port."  And  he  was 
always  careful  to  top  up  with  the  more 
generous  fellow. 

"God  bless  you,  Kitty!"  said  he,  in  his 
soul,  with  a  deep  sigh  of  satisfaction,  as  the 
final  mellow  drop  ran  down  his  throat.  "  I 
shall  have  a  sight  of  your  pretty  face  the  day 
after  to-morrow." 

"  And  now,  sir,"  he  asked,  "  how  do  we 
stand  with  regard  to  each  other  ? " 

Mr.  Huggins  started  from  his  sodden 
trance  of  horror.  The  words  had  fallen 
upon  him  like  buckets  of  cold  water.     The 

[  ho] 


LITTLE     RED     HEELS    m 


I.  O.  U.'s  lay  spread  out  in  eloquent  array. 
There  was  a  rapid,  merciless  little  calculation. 

"  I  take  it,  sir,"  said  O'Hara,  dropping  his 
pencil,  "that  you  owe  me  some  six  hundred 
guineas.     Or  will  you  kindly  verify  !  " 

Verify !  The  clerk  flung  out  his  arms 
upon  the  table,  dropped  his  head  over 
them,  and  gave  vent  to  a  bellow  of  utter 
misery.  Six  hundred  guineas!  With  the 
three  hundred  of  which  he  had  been  robbed, 
nine  hundred !  What  a  sum  for  a  City 
youth,  worth  at  highest  calculation  some 
fifty  shillings  a  week!  He  had  the  vaguest 
notions  of  the  manner  in  which  such  a 
debt  might  be  enforced  in  the  high  circles 
to  which  his  opponent  belonged  —  whether 
by  prison,  or,  yet  more  awful  contingency, 
by  pistols! 

Mr.  O'Hara  rose  from  his  seat  and  walked 
over  to  the  fireplace.  From  that  point  of 
vantage,  warming  his  coat-tails,  he  gazed 
philosophically,  though  not  unbenevolently, 
upon  the  prostrate  and  howling  youth. 

"Begorrah!  the  poor  little  cur!  'tis  the 
voice  of  a  bullock  he  's  got ! " 

After  a  moment  or  two  he  approached  the 
table  once  more  and  tapped  the  young  gam- 
bler sharply  on  the  shoulder.     Then,  without 

[hi] 


^INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS^ 

a  word,  gathering  together  the  valuable  auto- 
graphs, held  them  up  solemnly  before  the 
youth's  staring  eyes  ;  and  then,  still  in  silence, 
but  with  a  certain  air  of  ceremony,  crushed 
them  into  a  tight  ball,  which  he  finally  flung 
into  the  fire. 

The  clerk  sprang  to  his  feet,  uncertain, 
trembling,  scarcely  daring  to  interpret  the 
action  to  his  own  relief,  so  unspeakable  did 
that  relief  appear.  Upon  this  Mr.  O'Hara 
spoke  in  the  most  mellifluous  yet  doctoral 
accents  that  it  is  possible  to  conceive. 

"  Let  this  be  a  lesson  to  you,  young  man. 
For  the  future  be  content  with  the  humble 
lot  which  Providence  has  marked  as  your 
own.  Devote  yourself  to  the  low  virtues  of 
your  state  in  life,  and  refrain  from  endeavour- 
ing to  improve  yourself  by  imitating  the 
high  vices  of  your  betters.  Another  than 
myself,  Mr.  Huggins,  be  assured  of  it,  would 

not    have "     He    paused     impressively 

and  waved  his  hand  towards  the  fire. 

The  little  cit  —  no  very  attractive  spectacle 
in  his  turned  coat,  with  his  pale,  puffy,  red- 
eyed  face  —  here  fairly  broke  down  and 
burst  into  tears.  But  they  were  tears  of  the 
grateful  and  the  shamed.  O'Hara  stalked 
over  to    the    table  with    a    magisterial    gait 

[  ir-  ] 


LITTLE     RED     HEELS 


which  admirably  concealed  a  slight  ten- 
dency to  waver,  collected  his  loose  gold 
into  a  pile,  then,  slipping  the  greater  part 
into  his  pocket,  slammed  down  in  front  of 
the  ever  more  bewildered  youth  five  ringing 
golden  pieces. 

"  There,  young  man !  "  quoth  he,  "  take 
these,  and  also  take  the  coach  to-morrow 
back  to  London.  Eat  humble-pie  when  you 
get  there.  And  for  the  future,  sir,  beware 
of  wine  and  the  company  of  your  superiors, 
of  fashionable  captains,  and  the  Bath  road. 
Reserve  yourself  for  the  Harmonious  Bones 
and  the  ale  tankards.     Not  a  word,  sir !  " 

Upon  which  he  pointed  to  the  door  with 
so  decided  a  gesture  that,  not  unlike  the 
cur  to  which  he  had  been  compared,  the 
would-be  Macaroni  crawled  away  without 
either  the  wit  or  the  courage  to  utter  an- 
other word. 

Had  he  been  able  to  see  through  the  solid 
wood,  after  he  had  drawn  it  between  himself 
and  his  singular  entertainer,  Mr.  Huggins 
probably  would  have  been  more  puzzled  than 
ever.  For  Denis  O'Hara,  propped  against 
the  table,  was  swinging  from  side  to  side, 
a  prey  to  paroxysms  of  laughter.  O'Hara, 
moralist !     Delicious  pleasantry ! 

[■43] 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS 


It  was,  after  all,  not  before  the  sunset  of 
the  second  day  that  Mr.  O'Hara,  on  Red 
Beauty,  rode  into  the  rumour,  the  stir  and 
smoke  of  Town,  from  the  still  and  lonely, 
clean-breathing  country  road. 

With  his  temporary  sense  of  wealth  there 
had  come  over  him  a  temporary  sense  of 
caution.  The  going  was  bad  after  the 
snow ;  it  was  not  in  him  to  push  the  dear, 
faithful  mare ;  and  he  was  determined, 
moreover,  to  risk  no  encounter  that  might 
jeopardise  his  renewed  hopes.  It  was  late, 
therefore,  before  (in  a  toilet  of  sufificient 
elegance,  his  hair  recoiffed  a  la  Catogan  to 
hide  the  loss  of  his  curl)  he  found  himself 
once  again  in  Mayfair  between  the  two  link- 
extinguishers  of  Kitty  Bellairs's  house  in 
Charles  Street. 

A  sedan  was  waitins:  outside  and  there 
were  lights  within.  He  was  emboldened 
to  knock,  and,  to  his  bliss,  was  admitted, 
though  upon  conditions.  "  Mistress  Bellairs 
was  this  very  moment  about  to  leave  for 
Lady  Wharton's  rout,"  said  the  footman ; 
"  he  would  inquire  whether  she  would 
receive." 

"  Nay,"    said     Denis,    his    heart    beating 

[   '44  ] 


LITTLE     RED     HEELS 


thick,  and  slipped  one  of  his  hard-won 
guineas  into  the  ready  hand,  "  do  not 
announce  me,  friend:   I  will  see  for  myself." 

He  sprang  up  the  stairs  four  at  a  time 
and  then  paused  without  the  lavender 
parlour.  And  there  he  stood,  the  silly 
fellow,  breathing  short,  trembling,  before  he 
could  summon  self-control  enough  to  knock 
on  the  white-and-gold  panel. 

"  Gracious  sakes  !  "  cried  Kitty's  treble 
within. 

"  'T  is  I,  darling  —  Kitty,  darling,  't  is  I  !  " 
cried  the  most  ridiculous,  hoarse  voice  in 
all  the  world. 

"  Who  }  "  came  the  query,  crystal-clear 
and  silver-sharp  within.  (Bellairs  Incom- 
parable was  musical  even  in  querulousness ; 
delicious  in  all  her  butterfly  moods.) 

"  I  really  believe,  ma'am,"  came  Lydia's 
vibrant  tone,  with  a  bold  giggle,  "  that  't  is 
Mr.  O'Hara  back  again,  if  you  please ! " 

And,  "O'Hara!"  echoed  the  lady  within. 
And  surely,  surely,  there  was  a  ring  of  joy 
in  the  cry ! 

And  O'Hara,  opening  the  door,  heard  the 
song  of  her  silken  skirt,  the  patter  of  her 
little  red  heels,  as,  surprised  into  unwary 
graciousness,  she  actually  ran    to  meet   her 

[  H5  ] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


faithful  adorer — those  saucy  little  red  heels 
that  had  been  sweetly  dancing  through  his 
thoughts  these  five  long  days! 

"  Mercy  ! "  cried  the  lady,  "  what  have  you 
done  with  your  hair  ?  " 


[.46] 


IV 


*^T  had  been  said  of  George  Lionel 
Hill-Dare,  Earl  Mandeville,  that  he 
had  never  loved  nor  spared  a  woman. 
But  that  was  before  he  met  Rachel 
Peace  —  the  young  and  lovely  actress  who, 
with  her  dove-like,  Quaker  ways  and  her 
passionate  voice,  had  taken  London's  heart 
by  storm. 

Her,  Mandeville  both  loved  and  spared, 
until  the  hour  struck  —  inevitable  hour  — 
when  he  would  spare  no  longer;  and  the 
pretty  walls  of  her  false  paradise  were  shat- 
tered by  the  man  who  refused  to  remain 
content  any  longer  with  what  so  sweetly 
contented  the  woman.  He  demanded  rather 
than  begged  that  she  should  give  up  every- 
thing for  him,  offering  her  in  exchange  all 
a  gentleman  could   offer  —  all,  except    his 

[■47] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


name !  Then  the  pride  of  Quaker  purity 
(ingrained  in  every  fibre  of  her  being,  despite 
her  flagrant  renunciation  of  her  ancestors' 
tenets)  flamed  up  in  her  against  him  with 
that  new  pride  to  which  her  apprenticeship 
to  Art  and  work  had  given  rise.  She  would 
surrender  neither  honour  nor  calling.  And 
it  was  in  bitter  anger  they  had  quarrelled 
and  parted. 

The  parting  to  Rachel  had  been  like  the 
tearing  asunder  of  her  heart-strins^s.  And 
when  she  heard  rumours  of  the  possible 
marriage  of  his  lordship  with  the  fabulously 
rich  and  beautiful  widow,  Mrs.  Bellairs,  she 
could  endure  it  no  longer,  and  took  the  first 
opportunity  that  offered  to  call  him  back  to 
her  side. 

Indeed,  she  herself  went  in  search  of  him, 
a  doing  the  remembrance  of  which  would 
have  made  her  blush  into  her  pillows  at 
night  till  her  dying  day  had  it  not  been  for 
succeeding  events — consequences  of  her 
own  act,  which  changed  the  whole  current 
of  her  existence,  and  brought  poor  Rachel 
quickly  beyond  the  province  of  her  maidenly 
blushes. 

For  some  fancied  slight  to  her,  Mandeville 
had    challenged    Mr.    Stafford    and    in    the 

[14S] 


RACHEL     PEACE 


ensuing  recontre  he  had  been  dangerously- 
wounded.  Then,  woman-like,  Rachel  did 
what  she  had  before  refused  with  such 
scorn.  She  flew  to  his  side,  casting  away 
all  thought  of  name  or  fame.  And  when, 
after  a  rapid  convalescence,  he  was  ordered 
seclusion  and  quiet,  she  accompanied  him 
to  one  of  his  country  mansions.  For,  then, 
things  were  so  with  her  that  to  leave  him 
would  have  been  worse  than  death. 

•  ••••••• 

It  was  full  winter  at  Alston  Wood.  The 
world  had  set  for  storm,  both  within  and 
without.  Lord  Mandeville  was  not  of  those 
who  make  life  or  love  easy;  and  with  the 
killing  of  those  two  prides  of  hers  which 
Rachel  Peace  had  sacrificed  to  him  there 
had  come  upon  her  another  sort  of  pride  — 
shy,  sensitive,  ready  to  take  alarm  at  a  look 
or  a  shadow.  And  thus  she  had  withdrawn 
to  her  rooms  after  a  day  of  cross-purposes, 
and  left  him  alone  to  spend  his  evening  as 
best  he  might. 

But  alone  Lord  Mandeville  did  not  intend 
to  spend  it. 

Hitherto,  out  of  consideration  for  her  he 
had  asked  no  guest  inside  his  doors.  But 
now,  with  characteristic  disregard  of  the  evil 

[H9] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


weather,  he  had  sent  for  his  neighbour,  Sir 
Everard  Cheveral,  of  Bindon  —  as  good  com- 
pany, for  all  his  threescore  years,  as  any 
man  in  England.  The  roads  were  clearly 
bad  going,  this  night;  the  guest  was  evi- 
dently delayed,  and  the  impatience  of  soli- 
tary waiting  was  soon  irksome  to  the  young 
man.  There  was  a  lordly  anger  upon  him 
and  a  restless  fire  of  mischief  in  his  blood, 
born  of  his  returning  vigour  and  of  the 
small  scope  that  the  quiet  country  life  had 
offered  lately  to  his  teeming  energy. 

He  sat  in  the  library  before  the  log-fire 
—  a  bumper  of  Burgundy  at  his  elbow, 
a  volume  of  Wycherley's  plays  at  his  feet, 
where  it  had  slid  from  his  knee. 

As  he  gazed  upon  the  leaping  flames  and 
heard  the  wind  grumble  round  the  house, 
scold  and  mutter  in  the  chimney,  he  frowned 
as  he  recalled  the  recent  quarrel  with  Rachel. 
Yet,  even  as  he  frowned,  he  smiled.  He  was 
wroth,  in  his  masterful  way,  that  she  should 
have  defied  and  eluded  him  (with  a  dignity 
that  left  him  hopelessly  in  the  wrong);  and 
yet  it  was  with  a  secret  pleasure  that  he 
dwelt  upon  the  memory  of  the  way  in  which 
her  slow-moving  eyes  had  first  burned  with 
a  passionate  fire  and  then  brimmed  with  the 

[■5°] 


RACHEL     PEACE 


tears  that  her  pride  refused  to  release;  the 
way  in  which  her  tender  Hp  had  curved 
scorn  and  quivered  reproach.  This  sensi- 
tive instrument  was  his,  and  he  would  play 
on  it  as  he  liked  :  draw  from  it  harmony  or 
discord,  since  all  it  brought  forth  was  music 
to  him. 

But  meanwhile  he  was  alone,  and  impa- 
tient of  loneliness.  He  began  to  pace  the 
room,  unbarred  a  shutter  and  looked  into 
the  night.  All  was  black,  save  where  the 
snow,  already  heaped  against  the  window- 
ledge,  dead  white,  caught  the  candle  gleam. 
He  threw  a  curse  upon  the  skies  and  one 
upon  Cheveral's  ancient  bones,  then  came 
back  to  add  a  log  or  two  to  the  furious 
hearth. 

Had  it  not  been  that  the  snowfall  was  so 
thick  without  as  to  mufiie  sifjht  and  sound, 
even  from  a  little  distance,  his  watching  eyes 
and  ears  would  have  been  even  then  rejoiced 
by  the  plod  and  thud  of  straining  horses,  the 
roll  of  coach-wheels  and  the  slow  progress  of 
a  bobbing  lantern  up  the  lime  avenue. 

But,  presently,  as  he  stood  with  his  back 
to  the  fire,  toasting  his  handsome  calves,  the 
hail  of  a  human  voice  rose  distinct  above  the 
clamouring  wind.     Mandeville  started  from 

[151] 


^INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS^ 


his  musing ;  a  mischievous  smile  twisted  his 
lips. 

"  Poor  old  Cheveral,"  he  thought  cynically, 
"  nothing  but  a  due  appreciation  of  Alston's 
cellars  (and  a  right  sense  of  the  honour  of 
an  invitation  from  my  noble  self)  would  have 
brought  him  from  his  own  snug  chimney- 
corner  to-nii^ht ! " 

Then,  as  the  call  rose  louder,  closer  and 
more  insistent,  his  lordship,  in  a  hospitable 
hurry,  pealed  his  bell  and  stood  in  the  hall, 
bustling  the  eager  servants,  before  even  the 
travellers  without  had  reached  the  haven  of 
the  porch. 

"  Most  excellent  Cheveral  .  .  ."  he  was  be- 
ginning jovially,  as  the  two  folds  of  the  great 
outer  door  wheeled  noiselessly  back  under 
the  ministration  of  a  pair  of  brisk  footmen ; 
but  the  words  were  cut  short  on  his  lips  by 
sheer  amazement.  Instead  of  the  tall,  thin 
shape  he  had  expected  to  see,  there  met  his 
gaze  something  soft,  round  and  fluffy,  not 
unlike  a  human  white  bird  puffed  out  with 
cold  and  petulance,  that  was  poised  but  a 
second  on  his  threshold  and  then  fluttered 
in  towards  him,  shaking  snowy  plumes. 

A  few  crisp  snowflakes  flew  like  dove 
feathers  in  the  air.    Then  this  mass  of  white 

[>5^] 


RACHEL     PEACE 


fur,  marabout,  lace  and  wadded  silk,  resolved 
itself  into  a  much  wrapped  up  little  lady. 

"  By  the  Lord  Harry!"  cried  Mandeville, 
delighted.  "Madam  —  your  most  devoted, 
most  honoured " 

Again  he  broke  off;  from  under  thrust- 
back  hood  a  small,  round  face  had  peeped 
out  upon  him,  bright  and  rosy  from  the  cold 
air  —  a  pair  of  lustrous,  dark  eyes,  a  dim- 
pling smile.  But,  even  as  he  looked,  the 
pretty  smile  directed  towards  him  had  be- 
come fixed  in  a  dismay  as  sudden  as  his  own. 

"  Mistress  Bellairs ! "  he  cried,  with  his 
dark  frown. 

"Lord  Mandeville!"  she  ejaculated  in  a 
tone  of  primmest  discontent. 

The  last  person  in  very  truth  which  either 
had  desired  to  see  !  Mistress  Bellairs  had 
undoubtedly  been  placed  by  the  nobleman  in 
the  incredible  and  almost  odious  position  of 
being  almost  jilted  — she  who  had  hitherto 
reserved  to  hei'self  an  exclusive  right  in  such 
transactions.  As  for  Lord  Mandeville,  that 
this  particular  lady  of  the  world  —  towards 
whom,  indeed,  his  conscience  was  not  alto- 
gether easy  —  his  sister's  chosen  friend,  the 
very  impersonation,  as  it  were,  of  the  desirable 
social  existence  his  friends  desired  for  him ; 

[153] 


iS  INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


that  Mrs.  Bellairs,  in  short,  should  find  him 
in  rural  retreat,  en  pariie  fine  with  his  poor 
Rachel  ...  it  seemed  a  piece  of  spite  as 
evil  as  ever  fate  could  show  a  gentleman  ! 
And  he  fiercely  resented  it.  "  'T  is  a  trick 
of  my  dear  family,"  was  his  next  thought. 
And  that  brow  of  his  that  could  lower  to 
such  purpose  grew  yet  more  thunder-black. 

But  there  was  no  mistaking  the  genuine- 
ness of  Mistress  Kitty's  own  annoyance; 
she  turned,  a  perfect  whirlwind  of  fluff  and 
fury,  upon  the  two  figures  that  had  followed 
in  her  wake. 

The  first  was  a  bemufiled  damsel  with 
"Confidential  Maid"  proclaimed  in  every 
step  of  her  pert  advance  and  in  every  fold  of 
her  smart  attire.  Her  pretty  little  nose  was 
pinched  with  the  cold,  iher  sharp  eyes  roved 
with  squirrel-like  curiosity  from  side  to  side. 
She  laid  on  her  mistress's  cloak  a  possessive 
hand,  that  was,  however,  sharply  thrust  on 
one  side,  while  the  lady  poured  the  vials  of 
her  wrath  upon  the  third  traveller.  This  was 
a  tall  man,  who  stood  stamping  his  great 
riding  boots  free  of  the  snow,  beating  his 
numbed  hands  against  his  sides,  and  cursing 
the  cold  in  a  brogue  so  genial  as  to  rob  his 
language  of  all  indecorum. 

[■54] 


RACHEL     PEACE 


"Mr.  O'Hara,"  said  Mrs.  Bellairs,  "how 
could  you,  how  dared  you,  bring  me  to  this 
house }  " 

"  Why,  Kitty  darling  ?  "  cried  the  startled 
gentleman. 

"Sir!" 

"  Madam,  I  should  say.  Sure,  the  word 
keeps  slipping  out,  my  jewel.  Why,  whose 
house  is  it  at  all }  " 

"  A  house,  sir,"  cried  Kitty,  stamping  her 
foot  in  her  turn,  "where  I  will  not  be  insulted 
by  stopping  another  instant!" 

The  great  doors  had  been  closed  behind 
the  speakers  during  this  brief  dialogue,  and 
an  agreeable  warmth  was  beginning  to  steal 
throuQ:h  their  benumbed  limbs.  Nevertheless, 
Mr.  O'Hara  responded  with  the  greatest 
alacrity  : 

"  Insulted,  is  it }  Why,  then,  that 's  easily 
remedied.  Open  the  door  again,  you  fellows  ; 
the  lady's  going  back  into  her  coach  !  " 

Upon  his  gesture  the  lackeys  once  more 
flung  the  doors  wide,  and  a  whistling  blast 
rushed  eddying  into  the  hall,  bearing  the  ice 
of  death  upon  its  wings.  Mr.  O'Hara 
extended  his  becuffed  wrist  with  a  fine  air 
of   breeding. 

"  And  if    we  are  lost   in  the    black  snow 

[155] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


together,"  said  he  radiantly,  "  it 's  not  I  that 
will  complain !  " 

Mrs.  Bellairs  cast  but  one  look  at  the  gulf 
without,  where  the  bleak  night  was  pointed 
with  the  cruel  gleams  of  the  falling  snow. 
Then  she  shuddered. 

"  Lydia !  "  she  moaned  faintly,  and  de- 
manded a  chair  —  for  a  swoon  was  her  im- 
mediate intention. 

Her  cavalier  tipped  the  faintest  suspicion 
of  a  wink  to  the  host,  who  stood  sardonically 
awaiting  their  decision,  and  that  fastidious 
nobleman's  heart  was  instantly  won  over  to 
him  for  ever.  His  lordship  waved  his  hand. 
"  Let  coach  and  cattle  be  taken  round  to  the 
stables,  the  luggage  brought  in,"  he  ordered. 

The  doors  flew  to  once  more.  And  Lord 
Mandeville,  eager  to  secure  so  entertaining  a 
companion  as  this  Mr.  O'Hara  promised  to  be, 
without  the  concomitant  awkwardness  of  his 
companion's  society,  addressed  himself  with 
great  presence  of  mind  to  Mrs.  Bellairs, 
whose  damask  cheek  precluded  any  anxiety, 
even  in  the  breast  of  the  devoted  Irishman, 
as  to  the  condition  of  her  heart's  action. 

"  Madam,"  said  he,  "  it  is  my  grief  that  my 
presence  here  should  be  regarded  by  you  as 
an  insult.     Nevertheless,  it  is  my  joy,  and  a 

[•56] 


RACHEL     PEACE 


source  of  thankfulness,  that  my  house  should 
afford  you  shelter  from  the  storm.  Pray 
allow  me  to  induce  you  to  make  use  of  the 
one,  while  avoiding  the  other.  A  suite  of 
rooms  will  be  prepared  for  you ;  and,  I 
assure  you,  you  shall  receive  every  attention 
without  being  exposed  to  meet  the  object 
of  your  displeasure.  Let  the  housekeeper 
be  called." 

Mistress  Kitty  disengaged  herself  from 
her  attendant's  perfunctory  support,  and, 
opening  fabulous  eyelashes,  vouchsafed 
upon  the  speaker  the  glimmer  of  a  most 
insolent  eye. 

"The  housekeeper "she  murmured. 

"  Heaven  grant  a  respectable  person."  And 
forthwith  deemed  it  safest  to  relapse  into 
fresh  symptoms  of  syncope. 

Lord  Mandeville  gave  a  short  laugh  like  a 
snort.  "  Little  cat!"  thought  he.  "  Mercy! 
but  what  an  escape  I  've  had  !  " 

In  a  very  little  while  the  fair  traveller,  lean- 
ing upon  the  arm  of  her  maid,  was  consigned 
over  to  the  charge  of  an  apple-blossom-faced, 
white-curled  old  lady,  the  innocent  serenity 
of  whose  expression  bore  a  finer  witness  to 
respectability  than  could  the  sourest  prudery. 
To  look  at  Mrs.  Comfort's  countenance  and 

[  IS7  ] 


^INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRSil 

yet  refuse  belief  in  the  candour  of  her  soul 
was  sheer  impossibility.  Kitty  Bellairs  went, 
lamb-like,  in  her  wake  to  "  the  saffron 
chamber,"  cheered  by  her  host's  parting 
promise  of  a  cup  of  Mrs.  Comfort's  own 
apple-posset  before  that  supper  which  was  to 
be  served  to  her  anon  —  in  state  and  privacy. 
The  last  assurance,  by  the  way,  delivered  with 
the  air  of  superfine  civility,  fell  something  less 
than  agreeably  on  the  lady's  ear:  such  is  the 
inconsequence  of  "  little  cats  !  " 

Left  to  themselves,  the  two  gentlemen 
measured  each  other  with  a  mutually  apprais- 
ing eye ;  then  each,  with  approval  in  his 
mien,  bowed  to  the  other. 

"  I  have  not  heard  the  name  of  my 
hospitable  entertainer,  but  I  could  make  a 
good  guess,  I  'm  thinking,"  said  Mr.  O'Hara, 
''Lord  Mandeville?" 

"  No  other,  sir,"  said  the  peer.  "  I  my- 
self, I  believe,  have  the  honour  of  seeing  Mr. 
O'Hara.  Any  relation  to  my  Lord  Viscount 
Kilcroney .?" 

"His  own  son,  no  less!"  responded  the 
other  jovially.  "  Sole  heir  of  his  House  and 
Name,  to  the  family  debts,  and  the  best  cellar 
between  Cork  and  Derry  —  and  that  will  be 
drunk  to  the  last  bottle  before  the  old  boy 

[158] 


RACHEL     PEACE 


thinks  of  leaving  this  world  for  a  better  one 
.  .  .  more  power  to  him!" 

"  I  am  delighted,"  said  Mandeville.  And, 
in  sooth,  he  looked  it.  The  restless  devil 
within  him  was  rapidly  becoming  an  un- 
wontedly  jovial  one.  He  caught  O'Hara  by 
the  arm  and  marched  him  into  the  warm 
library,  with  its  fragrance  of  old  books  and 
burning  wood. 

"  Faith,  and  I  'm  delighted  too  !  "  said 
Denis,  wheeling  round  to  the  blaze.  "  Sure 
there  's  not  another  man  in  the  Kingdom  that 
has  done  me  such  a  good  turn  as  yourself !  " 

The  earl  raised  his  red  eyebrows,  uncon- 
sciously haughty.  How  had  he  done  Mr. 
O'Hara  a  turn  of  any  kind  ? 

"  Sure,  by  your  inconceivable  folly,"  said 
Denis.  "  Had  n't  you  the  offer  of  a  king's 
morsel,  my  lord,  and  have  n't  you  left 
it  to " 

"  I  trust,  my  good  sir,  to  one  so  apprecia- 
tive as  yourself.  But  I  need  n't  ask  —  't  is  as 
good  as  a  honeymoon  journey.  Lucky  dog  !" 
said  his  lordship  with  a  lurch  towards  the 
h-ishman  as  he  stood  dividing  the  heavy  tails 
of  his  great  coat. 

"  Lucky  !  You  never  made  a  greater  mis- 
take in  your  life.    It 's  as  much  as  she  '11  do  as 

[■59] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


to  let  me  squeeze  the  tip  of  her  little  finger. 
And  sure  I  dare  n't  even  do  that  for  fear  of 
hurting  the  tender  creature."  O'Hara  paused 
and  flung  a  misgiving  glance  upon  Lord 
Mandeville's  countenance.  "  I  'm  thinking," 
he  went  on,  "it's  but  little  acquaintance  you 
had  with  Mrs.  Bellairs,  after  all." 

"  Very  little,"  the  other  hastened  to  assure 
him.  Tiger  of  jealousy  as  he  could  be  him- 
self, he  was  sharp  enough  now  in  his  turn  to 
read  the  lover's  thought. 

O'Hara  flung  himself  into  a  big  armchair, 
and  stretched  out  each  slim  leg  in  its  snow- 
sodden  boot  to  the  hearth's  blaze.  Steam 
was  beginning  to  rise  about  him. 

"  If  you  think  now  she  'd  even  let  me  sit 
beside  her  in  the  coach  !  "  he  resumed  in  a 
grumbling  tone.  "  I  've  been  riding  by  the 
window,  in  the  devil's  own  weather,  these 
two  days.  By  the  powers,  but  I  thought  this 
blessed  night  every  minute  would  be  our 
next !  What  with  my  poor  chestnut  going 
lame  on  me,  out  of  contrariness,  and  our 
being  in  the  ditch  twice  (I  scored  there, 
though,  for  had  n't  I  the  pulling  of  my  little 
darling  out  of  the  snow.?);  and  what  with  her 
squealing  at  me  througli  the  window,  and 
asking    me    where    we    were,    and    me    not 

[160] 


RACHEL     PEACE 


knowing  a  foot,  barring  that  it  was  the  top 
of  the  winter  with  us  and  the  middle  of 
supper- time,  and  the  post-boys  bawling 
hellfire — though  even  that  couldn't  warm 
a  bone  of  us  ...  I  '11  tell  you,  my  lord, 
when  I  saw  those  lamps  of  yours  gleaming 
out  through  the  storm  each  side  of  your 
gates,  it  was  as  good  as  an  angel's  beacon. 
Faith,  and  that  was  the  comical  part  of  it, 
too !  —  for  the  gates  were  flung  open  for  us 
before  I  'd  time  to  let  a  yell,  as  if  we  had 
been  expected." 

"  I  am  expecting  a  friend  to-night,"  inter- 
polated Lord  Mandeville. 

"  Well,  I  could  conceive  a  worse  death  for 
a  man,"  pursued  Mr.  O'Hara  reflectively, 
"than  to  fall  asleep  in  the  snow,  with  his  arm 
around  Kitty  Bellairs  —  though  she'd  have 
scratched  my  eyes  out  first,  most  likely,  and 
as  long  as  she  'd  a  bit  of  breath  left  would 
have  vowed  it  was  my  fault  entirely.  Noth- 
ing would   serve  her,  you  see,  but  to   Bath 

she  must  return,  after  —  after "     O'Hara 

paused  and  sought  for  an  elegant  expression 
—  "after  your  lordship's  display  of  aberra- 
tion, as  I  said,  and  that  last  little  affair  of 
delicacy  with  Tom  Stafford.  She  could  n't 
find  her  pleasure  in  town  at  all.  And,  of 
"  [  i6i  ] 


ISINCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS^ 

course,  I  had  to  go  too  ;  for  there  are  too 
many  gentlemen  of  the  road,  on  the  way, 
favoured  by  these  dark  nights  —  as  anyone 
would  know." 

He  flung  open  his  coat  as  he  spoke,  and 
carelessly  relieved  himself  of  a  brace  of 
pistols,  which  he  handled  one  after  the  other 
in  so  knowing:  a  manner  that  Lord  Mande- 
ville,  whose  eyes  rested  upon  him  with  amuse- 
ment, broke  out  into  his  odd  laugh.  "  I  vow," 
he  cried,  "  anyone  might  take  you  for  '  the 
Captain '  himself,  Mr.  O'Hara." 

A  singular  little  stillness  fell  over  the 
Irishman  at  these  words,  and  his  dancing 
eye  gazed  suddenly  into  vacancy.  Then, 
after  an  appreciable  pause,  he  echoed  Man- 
deville's  laugh  with  a  slow,  spectral  note. 

"  By  the  Lord  Harry  ! "  said  the  latter  to 
himself,  "  this  is  even  better  than  I  thought. 
When  we  get  some  Burgundy  into  him,  there 
will  be  rare  fun.  I  almost  wish  I  liad  left  old 
Cheveral  in  peace."  Aloud  he  cried  to  his 
guest  that  he  must  change  his  wet  garments, 
and  then  they  would  make  a  night  of  it. 

•  •••■•  •  • 

But,  as  Lord  Mandeville  and  Mr.  O'Hara 
sat  once  more  before  the  kindly  logs,  with 
the  generous  bottle  between  them,  in  utmost 

[.62] 


^  RACHEL     PEACE  M 

good  fellowship,  it  was  not  of  lawless  deeds 
on  heath  and  crossways  that  the  mercurial 
visitor's  wine-loosened  tongue  was  disposed 
to  wag,  but  rather  upon  the  superlative 
attraction  of  his  chosen  fair.  At  the  first 
bumper  he  was  gently  dithyrambic  ;  at  the 
second,  enthusiastic ;  at  the  third,  positively 
defiant. 

"  By  my  soul,"  he  declared,  "  I  'm  amazed 
at  you  !  I  am,  indeed,  my  lord.  Why,  now, 
d  'ye  mean  to  tell  me  you  ever  met  anyone 
with  a  little  pair  of  hands  like  hers  ?  " 

"  Too  plump  and  dimpled  to  my  taste," 
quoth  the  Earl,  languidly,  from  the  depths 
of  his  leather  cushions.  He  was  imbibing 
quite  as  steadily  as  his  companion,  but  the 
current  of  his  blood  was  of  the  kind  that 
runs  deep  without  noise,  and  not  to  foam  and 
bubble.  "  Little  bits  of  dousrh  !  I  like  to 
feel  the  nerve  in  a  w-oman's  hands." 

"  Dough  !"  ejaculated  O'Hara.  "Dough, 
her  hands  }  Ah,  then  I  pity  you  !  It 's  be- 
cause you  never  got  the  sight  of  that  little  foot 
of  hers.  Oh,"  he  went  on,  rolling  maudlin  eyes 
to  the  ceiling,  "  in  a  pink  silk  stocking  you 
could  n't  help  thanking  Heaven  for  it,  even 
if  it  trod  on  your  heart." 

Lord    Mandeville   slowly  tilted    his    glass 

[  163  ] 


i^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^ 

from  side  to  side  to  let  the  ruby  catch  the 
blaze  and  feast  his  eyes  before  he  feasted  his 
palate. 

"  It  was  clad  in  cherry  colour  when  I  was 
gratified  with  that  spectacle,"  said  he  then, 
and  proceeded,  between  reflective  gulps : 
"  Something  of  a  want  of  taste  in  those 
stockings,  with  their  splashing  clocks!  If  I 
remember  rightly,  that's  what  finally  decided 
me.  Dumpy,  my  good  sir,  dumpy!  Now, 
I  have  in  my  mind "s  eye  a  slender  arch,  all 
breeding,  like  the  neck  of  a  racehorse." 

"  Dumpy,  my  lord  .  .  .  !  " 

O'Hara  set  his  glass  with  a  smack  on  the 
table  and  turned  a  fierce  glance  upon  the 
speaker.  To  prate  of  a  want  of  taste, 
forsooth  !  Why,  blood  had  been  shed  for 
less  than  so  flagrant  an  instance  of  it  than 
Lord  Mandeville  had  just  displayed  himself. 
But,  fortunately,  recollecting  that  to  this 
same  defect  in  his  host  he  himself  owed  his 
present  hopeful  position  in  Kitty's  retinue, 
Mr.  O'Hara  found  his  ferocity  suddenly 
merging  into  tenderness. 

*'  Sure,  glory  be  to  God,"  he  cried.  "  He 
knew  what  He  was  doing  when  He  made 
you  that  way !  He  had  me  in  His  Eye. 
Why,  murther,  man,  talk  of  arches  ?     I,  for 

[164] 


RACHEL     PEACE 


one,  could  never  get  beyond  my  Kitty's 
smile.  That 's  arch  enough  for  you,  and  to 
spare.  With  those  doaty  little  teeth  —  it 's 
too  regular  they  are  —  and  the  dimple  to 
beat  all !  Tare  and  ages!  It's  all  up  with 
me  when  she  sets  that  dimple  ! " 

He  grasped  the  decanter,  poured  out  a  fresh 
bumper,  held  it  solemnly  aloft: 

"To  Kitty  Bellairs!"  he  cried.  "The 
fairest  lady  that  ever  stepped  this  earth. 
The  angel  of  my  thoughts.  To  Kitty  Bel- 
lairs—  the  smallest  hand  and  foot  in  the 
land,  the  roundest  waist,  and  the  most  dis- 
tracting dimple  1  Won't  you  drink,  my 
lord?" 

Lord  Mandeville  hoisted  himself  erect  in 
the  lazy  depth  of  his  chair,  filled  himself 
likewise  a  fresh  beaker  with  white,  languid 
hands;  then  he,  too,  raised  his  glass  and 
looked  long  and  steadfastly  at  the  Irishman. 
The  red  gleam  was  in  his  auburn  eyes.  He 
was  in  that  frame  of  mind  when  a  man  will 
not  be  content  with  the  usual  routine  of  life, 
when  the  fire  in  his  veins  demands  some 
relief  in  extraordinary  action.  If  to  danger, 
so  much  the  better  ! 

As  for  O'Hara,  with  every  nerve  in  him 
tingling  in  the  reaction  after  the  cold,  he  was 

[■65] 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS 


in  that  most  delightful  condition  possible  to 
the  Celtic  race  —  best  described,  in  his  own 
words,  as  spoiling  for  a  fight. 

"  A  toast,  so  be  it !  "  said  Lord  Mandeville 
at  last,  dropping  back  into  that  cold  inso- 
lence of  manner  which  he  had  so  far  doffed 
in  his  intercourse  with  his  unexpected  guest. 
"  A  toast,  then ;  I  drink  to  her,  before  whom 
all  other  women  are  dowds  and  sluts.  To 
the  tall,  white  lily,  to  my  girl,  one  kind  shy 
look  of  whose  gentle  eyes  is  worth  all  the 
favours  of  ready  widows.  Won't  you  drink, 
Mr.  O'Hara?" 

Both  men  rose  to  their  feet,  and  each  with 
a  hand  on  his  2:1  ass  stood  o;larino-  at  the 
other,  like  a  challenfjino:  doof  —  dancine:  blue 
eyes  fixed  on  lurid  brown  ones.  Upon  this 
tense  silence,  this  breathless  pause  of  prepa- 
ration, in  which,  between  the  gusts  of  wind 
without,  the  very  ticking  of  Mandcville's 
great  watch  and  the  soft  sighing  collapse 
of  the  wood  ash  under  the  red  logs  could  be 
heard,  the  door  was  flung  open  and  the  foot- 
man announced : 

"Sir  Everard  Cheveral,  my  lord." 

For  yet  an  appreciable  space  of  time 
neither  man  would  be  the  first  to  shift  his 
defiant  g;ize ;  a  space  of  time  long  enough 

['66] 


RACHEL     PEACE 


for  that  connoisseur  of  life,  Sir  Everard,  to 
take  in  the  situation.  Then  with  his  short 
note  of  laughter,  which  seemed  always  so 
much  more  expressive  of  mockery  than  of 
mirth,  Lord  Mandeville  removed  his  fingers 
from  his  glass  stem  and  turned  to  greet  his 
guest. 

"  By  the  Lord  Harry  !  "  cried  he,  "  but  this 
is  vastly  good  of  you   Sir  Everard !  " 

Yet  even  while  he  shook  hands  he  was 
rolling  back  a  red  eye,  like  a  sullen  dog's, 
towards  O'Hara.  The  latter  with  his  thumbs 
now  thrust  in  the  pockets  of  his  embroidered 
waistcoat,  stood  all  gay  impatience  for  the 
fun  to  begin  again,  his  slim  feet  sketching 
a  jig  step  that  may  have  been  the  last  ex- 
pression of  the  war-dance  of  some  savage 
ancestor. 

"  Pray,  my  dear  lord,"  said  Sir  Everard, 
while  his  thin  chiselled  lips  curved  into  a 
slight  smile,  "have  I  interrupted?  I  under- 
stood by  your  note  your  lordship  was  alone. 
And  now  it  seems  as  if  I  came  a  bad  third." 

"  Then,  faith,"  called  Denis  O'Hara, 
"  You  're  like  to  be  made  into  a  good  second 
in  a  minute  !  " 

Again  Lord  Mandeville  laughed.  His 
unbidden  visitor's  humour  liked  him  vastly. 

[167] 


^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


Under  their  high-set  brows  the  new 
comer's  keen  light  eyes  looked  curiously 
from  one  to  the  other.  This  gentleman  was 
an  old  beau  of  tlie  most  exquisite  order,  sub- 
jecting his  elegance  to  his  years  with  uner- 
ring taste.  An  antique  cameo  on  his  finger; 
rare  Mechlin  falling  over  the  attenuated 
wrist ;  a  fragrance  of  scented  powder  about 
the  still  plentiful,  but  silvering  hair  ;  a  har- 
mony of  delicate  sober  colouring  round  the 
lean  figure,  held  erect  now,  with  somewhat 
conscious  effort,  by  him  who  had  once  been 
known  as  "  young  Adonis  "  —  his  personality 
was  one  which  could  not  fail  to  create  an 
immediate  impression.  United  as  it  was  to 
an  imperturbable  judiciousness  and  a  sly  wit, 
it  gave  him  authority  as  well  as  popularity 
in  those  hic^h  circles  which  his  fastidiousness 
allowed  him  alone  to  frequent. 

"  A  second  ! "  said  he.  "  Fie,  fie,  I  hope 
not  —  I  trust  not.  My  friend,  Lord  Mande- 
\illc,  is  the  last  man  I  know  to  have  scandal 
under  his  roof-tree.  Your  guest  is  pleased 
to  be  waggish,  Mandeville.  A  relative,  per- 
haps?    Will  you  not  present  me.^" 

"  No  relative,"  said  the  master  of  the 
house,  who,  with  all  that  singularity  of  de- 
meanour which  led  him  to  be  regarded  as  an 

[i6S] 


RACHEL     PEACE 


eccentric,  had  nevertheless  a  pretty  close  re- 
gard for  such  ceremony  as  he  deemed  be- 
coming to  his  rank,  and  could  be  v^xy  grand 
seigneur  when  he  chose.  "  No  relative,  Sir 
Everard,  but  a  traveller  whom  the  storm  has 
thrown  into  the  first  harbour  on  his  road, 
and  whom  I  feel  most  honoured  in  being 
privileged  to  entertain  —  Mr.  O'Hara,  eldest 
son  of  Lord  Kilcroney." 

"  Indeed,  indeed,"  quoth  Sir  Everard,  each 
ejaculation  marked  by  a  bow,  and  these  most 
subtly  measured  to  the  courtesy  rank  of  the 
recipient.  "  I  have  had  the  favour  of  the 
acquaintance  of  my  Lord  Kilcroney  —  in  his 
day." 

"  And  a  divil  of  a  day  it  was,  sir,"  said  the 
irrepressible  Denis,  pulling  out  the  lining  of 
his  waistcoat  pockets,  and  then  slapping 
them  to  emphasise  their  emptiness. 

"  But  there  is  certainly  a  resemblance 
between  you  and  my  Lord  Mandeville,  hence 
my  mistake,"  said  the  old  Baronet,  decorously 
ignoring  the  filial  expression  of  feeling. 

"  A  kind  of  kinship  in  the  colour  of  the 
hair,"  responded  O'Hara.  "  The  same 
lovely  auburn,  sir,  especially  my  own.  And 
I  was  just  beginning  to  find  out  an  interest- 
ing similarity  of  the  colours  of  our  tempers 

[169] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^ 


when  your  agreeable  presence  was  an- 
nounced." 

Thus  the  Honourable  Denis,  neatly  en- 
deavouring to  bring  back  things  to  their 
previous  footing.  But  Lord  Mandeville 
flung  back  his  head  and  laughed  again. 
And  in  this  third  outburst  there  was  some- 
thing so  genial  and  appreciative  that  the 
Irishman  heard  in  it  with  regret  the  death 
knell  of  his  pretty  quarrel.  "  As  pretty  a 
quarrel,"  he  said  mournfully  to  himself,  "as 
ever  I  saw  on   the  brew." 

And  sure  enough  his  lordship's  next  words 
were  those  of  conciliation : 

"  The  presence  of  my  excellent  friend.  Sir 
Everard,  is  always  beneficial,"  quoth  he,  "but 
never  was  more  opportune  than  to-night. 
Come  over  to  the  fire,  Cheveral,  and  discuss 
that  Burgundy  while  we  wait  for  supper. 
Mr.  O'Hara  and  I  were  about  to  drink  a 
toast  —  or,  rather,  to  be  quite  accurate,  I  was 
endeavouring  to  persuade  Mr.  O'Hara  to 
drink  mine,  while  he  very  properly  thought  I 
should  drink  his." 

"  Indeed,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  sink- 
ing gratefully  into  his  chair  and  extending 
his  fine  old  hand,  with  its  little  tremble,  for 
the  beaker  Mandeville  was  hospitably  filling. 

[  170] 


RACHEL     PEACE  i| 


He  knew  as  much  now  of  what  had  taken 
place  as  if  he  had  been  present  at  the  whole 
scene.  "  But  why  not  each  drink  to  his 
own  .  .  .  lady  and  let  me  drink  to  both?" 

"Well,  you  see,"  said  O'Hara  insinuat- 
ingly, a  lingering  hope  beginning  to  sparkle 
in'^his  eye,  "we  had  just  a  trifle  of  difference 
about  which  is  best  worth  the  bumper." 

"  He  likes  the  rose  pompon,  and  I  love  the 
tall  lily,"  put  in  Mandeville ;  and  he  flung  a 
half  mocking  look  on  O'Hara,  as  who  should 
say:  "No  use,  my  friend,  it  takes  two  to 
make  a  quarrel."  "  And  so,"  he  continued, 
"  as  Sir  Everard  wisely  says,  let  us  agree  each 
to  flavour  his  cup  with  the  flower  he  finds 
most  fragrant;  while  he,  old  roue  as  he  is, 
combines  the  bouquet !  " 

"  To  Kitty,  the  Queen  of  them  all !  "  cried 
O'Hara,  drowning  his  last  flare  of  defiance 
in  a  draught  so  cool,  so  rich,  so  subtly  strong, 
that  it  had  been  worthy  to  toast  Aphrodite 
herself. 

"  To  Rachel,  the  one  woman  for  me,"  said 
Lord  Mandeville  in  a  quiet  voice,  and  drank 
likewise. 

The  older  man  watched  a  second  with  an 
amusement  half  cynical,  half  melancholy. 

"  To  the  two  most  lovely  ladies,"  he  said 

[■71] 


^INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS^ 

then,  and  uplifted  his  glass.  After  a  few 
sips,  however,  he  put  it  down. 

But  the  young  men  emptied  their  cups 
without  a  pause,  as  if  the  draught  had  been 
love  itself,  and  drew  a  long  breath.  Then 
cried  O'Hara  boisterously,  as  the  liquor 
tingled  through  his  veins: 

"What,  Sir  Everard,  shirking  already  — 
and  with  such  a  spur  to  the  drink!" 

"  Why,  sir,  no.  Yet  't  were  sin,"  said  the 
epicure,  "  to  pull  at  such  nectar  as  a  horse 
at  a  trough.  Gentlemen,  gentlemen,  you 
should  let  it  lie  on  the  tongue,  and  think  as 
it  slides  down.  Why,  my  good  sirs,  there  's 
sunshine  in  that  juice.  The  very  sunshine 
and  breeze  of  France.  Aye,  aye,  and  the 
spirit  of  lost  youth  ! " 

He  gazed  at  the  purple  in  his  glass  and 
let  his  fingers  play  round  the  rim ;  then  he 
raised  it  aloft  once  more. 

"  Old  age  has  few  joys,"  said  he,  "  and 
therefore  is  a  miser  to  them —  I  linger,  my 
dear  young  friends,  over  the  pleasure  that  is 
already  gone  from  you.  And  now  I  can 
still  drink  to  those  two  lovely  ones,  whose 
faces  and  forms  this  precious  liquid  helps  me 
to  picture,  though  it  is  unlikely  these  ancient 
eyes  shall  ever  behold  them." 

[  172] 


RACHEL     PEACE 


"  Miser  indeed,"  exclaimed  Lord  Mande- 
ville,  "and  poor  philosophy,  good  sir!  For 
we  can  down  with  another  brimmer  while 
you  stint  with  the  first." 

And  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  he 
refilled  O'Hara's  glass  and   his  own. 

"  Hooroosh  ! "  cried  the  Irishman,  and  the 
first  ceremony  was  repeated,  if  possible,  with 
increased  zest. 

It  was  fortunate  that  Earl  Mandeville  was 
noted  for  his  strong  head  in  this  hard  drink- 
ing age.  As  for  Lord  Kilcroney's  heir,  his 
life  was  spent  in  such  constant  state  of  exhil- 
aration of  one  kind  or  another  that,  while 
his  friends  declared  he  was  rarely  drunk,  his 
enemies  vowed  he  never  was  sober.  Never- 
theless, it  must  be  owned  that  after  this  last 
libation  neither  of  the  gallant  lovers  was 
quite  in  possession  of  his  usual  deliberate- 
ness  of  judgment. 

Upon  Sir  Everard's  rather  plaintive  dedi- 
cation, O'Hara  cried   exuberantly: 

"  Sure,  the  darlings  are  in  the  house  this 
minute  and  it  would  be  a  poor  case  if  you 
don't  get  a  sight  of  them  both  to-morrow!  " 
And  his  imprudent  remark  was  instantly 
capped  by  Mandeville's  cool  suggestion: 

"  To-morrow  ?     Why  not  to-night }  " 

[173  ] 


^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^ 

At  this,  however,  even  O'Hara  stared  a 
second  and  hesitated.  He  did  not  think 
anything  Vv'ould  lure  his  Kitty  in  dudgeon 
from  her  virtuous  retreat.  But  the  red  glow 
had  returned  to  Mande villa's  eye  and  was 
burning  steadily. 

"  By  the  Lord  Harr)^"  he  cried,  "  we  are 
a  pair  of  dullards,  recreant  knights!" 

"  Idjits,"  suggested  O'Hara,  suddenly 
catching  fire  without  as  yet,  any  clear  notion 
of  his  host's  trend. 

"And  Cheveral  here  —  old  lady  killer  as 
he  is  still  —  would  have  a  right  to  walk 
in  and  cut  us  out,"  pursued  Mandeville. 
"What!  our  two  pretty  birds  each  moping 
in  its  cage  upstairs  and  we  proposing  to  sup 
below  without  them !  We  '11  have  them 
down." 

"  The  rose  and  the  lily  to  grace  the  table," 
interrupted  Cheveral,  whose  clear,  moderated 
tones  were  in  contrast  to  the  feverish  utter- 
ances of  the  other  two.  "  Unfortunately,  if 
my  experience  goes  for  anything,  the  bloom  of 
these  flowers  sometimes  suffers  from " 

But  Mandeville  cut  in,  in  hot  pursuit  of  his 
mad  idea:  "And  Cheveral,  first  connoisseur 
in  Europe,  shall  play  the  Paris  and  bestow 
the  apple." 

[■74] 


RACHEL     PEACE 


"  Faith,  and  I  've  no  fear,"  ejaculated 
O'Hara  with  a  grimace.  "  If  only  I  can 
coax  my  little  Venus  to  come  for  judgment." 

"  Then,"  answered  the  Earl,  "  if  she  does 
not,  you  will  be  voted  vanquished,  my  friend, 
and  have  to  drink  my  toast.  The  lover 
whose  lady  refuses  his  summons  is  shown 
a  fool.     There  's  the  challenge,  sir." 

"  It  never  shall  be  said  that  Denis  O'Hara 
refused  a  challenge,  be  it  cup,  kiss,  or  sword  !" 

"  A  moment  ago,  young  men,"  said  Sir 
Everard,  lifting  his  ivory  hand  with  a  little 
rebuking  gesture,  "  I  found  myself  envying 
your  youth.  But,  'pon  my  soul,  I  begin  to 
think  old  age  has  its  compensations  ;  at  least 
it  will  feel  less  foolish  when  it  wakes  up  in 
the  morning,   I  '11  warrant." 

"  You  '11  be  envying  my  youth  again,  in  a 
short  while,"  retorted  Mandeville  brutally,  as 
he  flung  himself  in  the  chair  before  the 
escritoire  and  plunged  a  long-feathered  quill 
into  the  ink. 

"  A  letter  !  "  cried  O'Hara.  "  By  jabers,  a 
letter !  By  the  powers,  that 's  a  mighty  fine 
idea  ! " 

He  stood  on  the  hearth-rug  with  his  head 
on  one  side,  nibbling  his  little  finger.  All  at 
once  he  smiled  blandly,  struck  his  forehead, 

[■75] 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS 


and  cut  one  of  his  eccentric  capers.  Then, 
stepping  gaily  on  his  toe,  as  if  in  the  opening 
measure  of  a  minuet,  he  advanced  towards 
his  host. 

"  After  you,  my  lord,"  said  he,  "  with  that 
pen  .  .  .  Oh,  take  your  time  —  only  be  as 
quick  as  you  can  !  " 

Lord  Mandeville  glanced  up,  with  a  twitch 
of  lip  and  eyebrow  that  gave  him  a  curious 
resemblance  to  a  snarlincf  hound.  Then  he 
dashed  the  pen  down  on  the  velvet  cloth  and 
folded  the  sheet.  His  letter  of  summons  to 
Rachel  Peace  seemed  by  no  means  so  diffi- 
cult as  O'Hara's  proposed  epistle  to  Mrs. 
Bellairs.  Yet,  if  O'Hara  wrote  slowly  and 
often  paused  for  reflection,  the  delighted 
smiles  that  succeeded  each  other  on  his 
ingenuous  countenance  bore  witness  to  self- 
approval. 

Kitty,  darling,  that  red-headed  fox  of  a  fellow, 
Mandeville,  has  got  some  notion  into  his  poll  (and 
it 's  half  Burgundy)  to  ask  you  down  to  supper 
with  us  to-night.  I  know  it's  not  you  that  would 
be  accepting  such  an  invitation  from  the  likes  of 
him  —  but  this  is  to  warn  \'ou,  Kitty,  darling.  If 
you  love  me  you  '11  say  nay,  of  course.  I  would 
not  have  you  come  down  to  be  stared  at,  if  it  was 
for  the  Kinf{  himself 


'i> 


['76] 


RACHEL     PEACE 


As  Mr.  O'Hara  read  over  this  lucubration, 
with  an  even  broader  grin,  Lord  Mandeville, 
measuring  the  hearth-rug  from  end  to  end 
with  impatient  step,  briefly  inquired  if  he 
were  ready,  and  hardly  waited  for  the  answer 
to  ring  the  bell. 

"  Have  this  letter  conveyed  to  Mistress 
Peace,"  he  ordered. 

"  Convey  this  note  to  Mistress  Bellairs, 
and  you  '11  mightily  oblige  me,"  said  O'Hara 
insinuatingly,  his  dulcet  tone  contrasting 
with  Lord  Mandeville's  peremptoriness. 
"And  by  the  way,"  he  added,  "John,  my 
son,  Thomas,  James,  or  whatever  your  god- 
parents called  you,  you  might  inform  Mis- 
tress Bellairs  that  his  lordship  begs  she  will 
honour  him  at  supper  to-night.  Just  a  little 
formality,"  he  added,  turning  to  answer  Man- 
deville's inquiring  stare. 

The  latter  shrugged  his  shoulders ;  he 
seemed  suddenly  to  have  lost  his  jovial 
humour. 

Sir  Everard  Cheveral  sighed  a  little,  then 
philosophically  finished  his  glass  of  Burgundy 
by  slow  sips. 

•  ••••*• 

Lord  Mandeville  was  one  of  those  masters 
who  are  always  well-served,  and  who,  if  they 

[  177  ] 


gllNCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS^ 

are  more  feared  than  loved  by  their  servants, 
are  more  admired  even  for  their  eccentrici- 
ties than  others  would  be  for  their  virtues. 
The  few  orders  he  had  given  that  evening 
had  been  carried  out  with  such  zest  that 
both  his  guests  halted  with  surprise  and 
admiration  before  the  sight  of  the  gaily 
illuminated  dininor-room,  the  flash  of  the 
silver,  the  rarity  of  the  greenhouse  blooms. 

"  We  will  not  sit,"  said  Lord  Mandeville, 
"  till  the  ladies  appear."  Then  turning  on 
the  major-domo  —  "Inform  the  ladies,"  he 
ordered,  "  that  we  await  them  here." 

There  followed  an  anxious  pause.  Half 
weary,  half  entertained,  Sir  Everard  Cheveral, 
who  had  long  ceased  to  be  able  to  take  much 
interest  in  his  own  affairs,  and  was  therefore 
dependent  upon  those  of  others  for  most  of 
the  zest  of  life,  leaned  against  the  mantel- 
piece and  waited,  placidly  enough.  Which- 
ever way  expectation  terminated,  it  was  sure 
to  prove  dramatic  to  the  observer. 

But  O'Hara,  for  all  that  he  had  been  so 
smiling  a  scribe,  was  nervous.  His  frame  of 
mind  betrayed  itself  in  aimless  jokes,  rest- 
less, interrupted  gestures.  He  was  now  sit- 
ting, now  standing,  now  feigning  with  pointed 
finger   a  fencing  pass    at    the   waistcoat    of 

['78] 


RACHEL     PEACE 


some  pictured  Mandeville  ancestor,  now  ap- 
praising a  particularly  wooden-eyed  ances- 
tress and  shaking  his  head  in  rueful  criticism. 
Mandeville  himself  had  taken  his  post  near 
the  door  and,  with  head  bent  forward,  hands 
clasped  behind  his  back  and  legs  wide  apart, 
stood  listening,  his  brow  growing  ever  blacker 
as  the  expected  sounds  delayed  their  approach. 

At  last  there  was  a  stir  among  the  attend- 
ants without,  and  a  rustle  of  trailing  silks. 
Mandeville  raised  his  head  sharply.  The 
young  men  looked  at  each  other,  once  more 
exchanging  glances  of  defiance.  Then  the 
two  folds  of  the  door  were  flung  open,  and, 
as  in  a  frame — bepowdered,  bepatched,  be- 
jewelled, with  little  head  high  held,  conscious 
of  its  own  incomparable  daintiness ;  in  her 
low-bosomed  gown  of  pearl  satin  a  ramages 
de  roses  ;  diamonds  flashing  on  cobweb  laces 
with  each  breath  of  the  triumphant  yet 
fluttered  breast,  flashes  repeated  by  those 
teeth  O'Hara  had  lauded,  and  by  those  eyes, 
languorous  yet  brilliant,  that  might  have 
filched  an  Emperor's  crown  —  stood  Kitty! 
As  fair  an  apparition,  certes,  as  had  ever 
graced    the    old    manor-house. 

"  Mistress  Bellairs,"  said  the  butler  solemnly 
into  the  charged  silence. 

[179] 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS 


"  Damn  me !  "  cried  Sir  Everard  to  him- 
self, startled  from  his  nonchalance.  "  As 
Mandeville  prophesied,  this  is  like  to  make 
a  man  regret  his  youth." 

O'Hara  clapped  his  hands  together  with  a 
wild  shout  of  exultation.  "  Venus  herself !  " 
Then,  suddenly,  he  lifted  his  finger  as  if  in 
anger.  "  Ah,  Kitty,  Kitty,  this  is  a  pretty 
trick!  "  But  he  could  not  for  the  life  of  him 
keep  the  wild  delight  from  eye  or  toe. 

Shooting  one  fierce  look  back  at  the  two 
other  men,  Lord  Mandeville  advanced,  with 
his  grand  air,  took  Kitty's  little  hand,  and 
first  bent  over  it  with  some  phrase  of  high- 
flown,  if  somewhat  superficial,  gratitude;  then 
he  formally  presented  Sir  Everard  Cheveral, 
who  had  advanced  to  his  elbow.  After  this 
ceremony,  while  Kitty  beamed  on  the  new 
admirer,  whose  reputation  was  not  unknown 
to  her,  the  host  stood  in  the  door-way,  watch- 
ing the  empty  passage  in  that  sort  of  patience 
which  is  so  much  more  dangerous  than  any 
outburst  of  passion. 

In  spite  of  the  flutter  of  triumph  in 
which  she  had  made  her  entree,  Kitty  carried 
nevertheless  a  certain  delicate  shyness  about 
her  to-night,  which  robbed  her  position  of 
anything  over-bold   and  rendered   her  quite 

[  i8o] 


RACHEL     PEACE 


adorable  in  O'Hara's  eyes.  So  that,  forget- 
ting his  victory,  he  stood  contemplating  her 
with  fatuous  eyes  while  she  responded  with 
her  prettiest  grace  to  Sir  Everard's  old-fash- 
ioned courting. 

The  butler,  who  had  been  uneasily  watch- 
ing his  master,  now  approached  him  with 
much  discretion  and  some  mystery. 

"  May  it  please  your  lordship,"  he  mur- 
mured, "  Mistress  Peace  begs  to  be  excused." 

Lord  Mandeville  went  livid  and  then 
crimson,  the  veins  on  his  neck  and  brow 
starting  like  whipcords. 

"  My  tablets  !  "  he  said ;  and,  when  they 
were  brought,  wrote  a  line.  "  Give  this  with 
your  own  hands  to  Mistress  Peace." 

The  old  servant,  as  he  hurried  away,  shook 
his  head  several  times  over  the  folded  note : 
he  knew  his  master  well,  knew  all  the  signs 
of  coming  storm  in  that  stormy  personality. 
"  'T  will  be  as  bad  a  one  as  ever  we  have 
seen,"  thought  he.  And,  in  some  manly 
corner  of  his  soul  untouched  by  servitude, 
he  pitied  the  poor  soft-voiced  young  lady. 

"  And  now,"  cried  Lord  Mandeville,  "  we  '11 
to  the  table  !  " 

"  Aha  !  "  cried  O'Hara. 

But  the  other  went  on  with  a  look  that  cut 


^^INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS^ 

short  the  Irishman's  cheer  as  effectually  as  if 
he  had  struck  him  on  the  mouth  :  "  I  expect 
another  fair  sfuest.  But  ladies  like  to  make 
the  men  wait  and  languish.  And,  by  the 
Lord  Harry,  we  '11  not  accept  the  situation 
to-night !  Mistress  Bellairs,  will  you  honour 
me  by  taking  the  seat  at  my  right  hand  ?  " 

"  Faith,"  whispered  O'Hara  to  Cheveral, 
as  he  neatly  skipped  into  the  seat  on  the 
further  side  of  Kitty,  "  his  lordship's  smile 
is  enough  to  turn  everything  sour  in  the 
house  this  blessed  moment !  But  I  '11  have 
the  toast  out  of  him  all  the  same." 

Sir  Everard  glanced  across  the  table  at 
his  host's  face,  deadly  white  once  more,  and 
shook  his  head  much  as  the  old  butler  had 
done.  There  was  a  hint  of  something  almost 
tragic  in  the  air,  which  made  him  fear  that 
the  evening  might  not  end  with  the  mere 
out-pouring  of  wine.  He  glanced  compas- 
sionately at  handsome  reckless  O'Hara,  and 
saw  him  in  his  mind's  eye  at  the  point  of 
Mandeville's  furious  blade;  and  he  almost 
l)ut  up  a  warning  hand  as  the  Irishman 
now  made  a  loud  demand  upon  the  Earl's 
attention. 

"  Never  put  off  your  best  intentions,  my 
lord,"    O'Hara   cried.     "  There 's    that    little 

[182] 


RACHEL     PEACE 


ceremony  we  were  discussing  a  while  ago, 
just  clamouring  to  be  gone  through  (and  in 
as  pretty  a  voice  as  ever  sat  by  your  side  at 
this  table,  or  at  any  other)  and  I  challenge 
you  to  prove  the  contrary  !  " 

"  Your  metaphors  are  a  trifle  mixed," 
answered  Lord  Mandeville  with  a  sneer. 
"  But  without  troubling  about  your  grammar, 
sir,  I  would  point  out  that,  in  England  at 
least,  toasts  are  not  drunk  at  table  before 
bread  is  broken." 

Mistress  Kitty  shifted  her  bird-like  glance 
from  her  host  to  the  vacant  chair  on  his  left. 
An  intuition  of  what  had  taken  place  had 
already  begun  to  dawn  in  her  quick  brain. 
And  to  her,  who  in  all  the  world  dreaded 
nothing  so  much  as  dulness,  who  had  seized 
with  avidity  the  first  chance  of  escape  from 
the  solitude  of  her  chamber  —  a  solitude 
which  her  own  temper  had  imposed  upon 
her  —  came  the  conclusion  that  the  nisfht 
would  be  entertaining. 

"  '  Let  him  whose  summons  is  not  obeyed 
be  shown  a  —  '  hem,  hem  !  "  persisted  Mr. 
O'Hara  in  a  hisfh  sinor-sonor,  leanins:  back  in 
his  chair,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  ceiling. 

"  The  very  devil  's  in  the  boy!"  said  Sir 
Everard  testily  to  himself. 

[183] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


Lord  Mandeville,  who  was  bendino:  for- 
ward,  both  his  hands  on  the  table,  in  no 
reassuring  attitude,  here  suddenly  started 
and  turned  his  gaze  sharply  towards  the 
door. 

Without  pompous  announcement  of  serv- 
ant, without  self-assertive  tap  of  heel,  or 
rustle  of  gown,  Rachel  Peace  entered  upon 
them. 

Lord  Mandeville  leaped  to  his  feet,  took 
a  few  hasty  steps  towards  her,  and  then 
abruptly  halted.  Sir  Everard,  with  the  stiff 
and  slow  movement  of  old  age,  rose  like- 
wise, fumbling  for  the  ribbon  of  his  glasses. 
O'Hara  sat  as  if  transfixed,  a  succession  of 
emotions  sweeping  over  his  countenance  — 
amazement,  admiration,  vexation,  and  then 
a   deep   compassion. 

Mistress  Bellairs  remained  likewise  mo- 
tionless, opening  wide  eyes  and  pinching  a 
small  mouth,  waiting  for  her  opportunity. 
She  had  been  quite  prepared  for  this  meet- 
ing, for  the  whereabouts  of  so  celebrated  a 
favourite  as  Rachel  Peace  had  naturally 
been  the  talk  of  the  town. 

"  1  have  come  as  you  bade  me,"  said 
Rachel,    in    a    low,    toneless    voice. 

And  Lord  Mandeville  stood  staring  at  her 

[■84] 


RACHEL     PEACE 


and  could  find  no  word  with  which  to  re- 
ceive her.  In  his  first  letter  he  had  thus 
commanded :  "  Love,  I  have  guests  to  supper. 
Come  down.  Be  beautiful.  Wear  your 
pearls  and  the  grey  gown  I  like."  So  wrote 
he,  condescendingly,  expressing  his  lordly 
will.  The  next  summons  had  run  in  fewer 
words  still :    "  Rachel,   I  am  waiting." 

Now,  obedient,  she  stood  before  him,  the 
soft  folds  of  shimmering  grey  trailing  about 
her,  the  ropes  of  pearls  round  her  white 
throat.  But  above  this  delicate  splendour, 
her  face  was  so  marble-white,  her  sweet  eyes 
so  dark  with  pain,  her  tender  lips  folded  close 
upon  such  sorrow  ;  and  withal  she  stood  in 
such  beauty,  such  dignity,  that  Mandeville's 
wild  humour  fell  from  him  and  he  stood 
abashed. 

"  My  lord,"  said  Sir  Everard  gravely,  "  will 
you  not  introduce  me  to  the  lady  ?  " 

And,  at  that,  O'Hara  got  up  and  drew  near 
them  also  ;  and  Kitty  sat,  her  brilliant  head 
alertly  poised,  knowing  that  her  moment 
was  coming.  For  a  perceptible  instant. 
Lord  Mandeville  hesitated.  Suddenly,  as  if 
a  gulf  had  opened  before  him,  he  saw  into 
what  a  pitfall  his  arrogant  wildness  had 
brought  the  woman  he  loved. 

[■85] 


^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^ 

And  that  little  pause  was  as  a  dagger 
struck  into  Rachel's  heart  —  culminating 
misery  of  this  hour  of  misery,  final  awaken- 
ing from  her  impossible  dream  of  happiness  ! 

"  Of  course,  Sir  Everard  .  .  .  My  dear," 
began  Lord  Mandeville,  pulling  himself  to- 
gether, and  endeavouring  to  speak  lightly, 
with  white  dry  lips. 

But  she  interrupted  him,  in  the  golden 
voice  that  in  her  brief  career  had  charmed 
fame  to  her,  and  that  now  in  its  very  steadi- 
ness and  sweetness  rans:  somehow  with  a 
deeper  pathos  than  if  it  had  been  broken 
with  tears : 

"  Useless  this,  my  lord.  I  am  now  of 
those  with  whom  ceremony  is  out  of  place, 
and  you  have  made  me  feel  it  to-night." 
She  turned  slowly  to  the  strangers.  "  Sirs, 
I  am  Rachel  Peace,  who,  poor  actress  as  she 
was,  when  you  may  have  heard  of  her  first, 
had  then  at  least  a  right  to  all  men's  respect. 
To-night  she  stands  before  you  in  satins  and 

jewels,  and  sees "  —  her  voice  faltered, 

and  the  blood  rushed  to  her  face — "has 
been  made  to  see  at  last  what  she  has  be- 
come .  .  .  Madam,  I  am  aware  that  my 
presence  in  your  company  must  be  regarded 
by  you  as  an  insult." 

['86] 


RACHEL     PEACE 


Now,  these  very  words  had  been  hovering 
on  the  Httle  widow's  lips,  and  she  had  been 
merely  waiting  for  the  right  moment  to  place 
them  herself.  But  no  sooner  was  she  thus 
addressed  by  her  enemy  than  she  started 
and  looked  at  her  with  new  eyes ;  saw  on  a 
sudden  how  young  the  creature  was,  how 
forlorn,  how  unprotected,  how  sad  and  inno- 
cent her  gaze  and  pathetic  her  voice.  Then 
all  Kitty's  womanly  heart  melted  within  her, 
and  the  tears  rose.  Her  face  worked  with 
the  prettiest  grimace  in  the  world, 

"Rachel — Rachel,  my  girl!"  exclaimed 
Lord  Mandeville. 

O'Hara  and  Cheveral  had  fallen  back. 
Worlds  would  they  have  given  to  be  able  to 
efface  themselves  from  the  scene.  Deep  es- 
pecially was  O'Hara 's  manly  shame  for  his 
own  careless  share  in  it. 

"  Oh,  my  lord,"  said  Rachel  Peace,  turn- 
ing her  slow  eyes  on  IMandeville,  "  and  you 
had  pledged  me  your  protection !  " 

Between  the  fumes  of  the  wine  and  the 
shock  of  realising  suddenly  all  the  baseness 
into  which  he  had  drifted  under  its  influence, 
the  man  reeled.  He  caught  for  support  at 
the  table  behind  him.  Then  Rachel  Peace 
unclasped  the  pearls  from  her  pretty  white 

[187] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


throat,  from  her  slender  wrists,  and  laid  them 
beside  him  as  he  stood  staring  upon  her. 
"Chains  of  my  shame!"  she  said.  And,  at 
that,  Mistress  Kitty  sprang  from  the  table, 
and  ran  and  caught  her  in  her  warm  arms 
and  kissed  her  and  cried  over  her  as  over  a 
hurt  child. 

''  Come  away,  poor,  poor  thing!  "  said  she, 
"away  \vith  me!  "  And  Rachel,  all  her  high 
courage  gone  at  this  unexpected  touch  of 
human  kinship,  was  led  away  in  her  rival's 
embrace,  half  fainting,  unresisting,  to  the 
door. 

On  the  threshold,  Mistress  Bellairs  paused 
to  cast,  first  upon  Lord  Mandeville,  and  then 
upon  O'Hara,  such  a  fulminating  look  of 
wrath  and  scorn  that  each  man,  struck  ac- 
cording to  his  different  nature,  dropped  his 
eyes  before  it. 

"  I  hope  you  are  proud  of  your  night's 
work,  gentlemen  !  " 

"  Now,  by ,"  cried   Mandeville  as  the 

door  closed,  and  made  a  spring.  But  Sir 
Everard  laid  a  heavy  hand  upon  his  arm. 

"  Let  them  be,  my  lord,"  he  almost 
ordered. 

The  young  man  glared  upon  him,  then 
suddenly   turned    away   to    fling    himself    in 

[i88] 


RACHEL     PEACE 


the  armchair  by  the  fireside,  with  his  back 
towards  them,  his  face  hidden  in  his  hands. 
Sir  Everard  Cheveral  returned  to  his  own 
seat  at  the  table;  but,  with  all  the  philosophy 
of  his  ripe  years,  he  could  not  find  it  in  him 
to  continue  his  supper.  And,  pushing  his 
plate  from  him,  he  merely  broke  a  crust  be- 
tween his  finofers  and  finished  his  o^lass  of 
wine  in  meditative  silence. 

He  had  anticipated  a  tragedy  —  the  shed- 
ding, probably,  of  some  of  this  riotous  youth- 
ful blood  —  as  the  inevitable  end  of  the 
evening's  work.  But  the  silent  tragedy  of 
this  broken  woman's  life  he  had  not  antici- 
pated. And  it  had  moved  him  more  than 
his  egotistical  old  age  was  prepared  to  en- 
dure. It  was,  therefore,  a  most  severe  eye 
that  he  turned  upon  O'Hara,  when,  after 
a  lengthy  pause,  that  mercurial  gentleman 
sidled  back  to  his  place. 

Denis's  face  was  quivering  with  complex 
emotion.  He  was  bursting  with  the  neces- 
sity of  unburdening  himself  of  some  of  it. 

" 'Pon  my  soul,"  said  he,  in  a  whisper  so 
exquisitely  irritating  to  Cheveral  at  such  a 
moment  that  nothing  could  have  made  him 
submit  to  it  but  the  knowledge  that  if  he 
refused  his  ear,  Mr.  O'Hara  would  inevitably 

[189] 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRSl 


seek  that  of  Lord  Mandeville, ''  Ton  my  soul, 
sir,  Mandeville  was  not  so  far  wrong:  she's 
a  lovely  creature,  sir,  a  lovely  creature  !" 

"  Lord  Mandeville  was  deeply  wrong," 
answered  Sir  Everard,  drawing  back  a  little 
to  rest  his  glance  in  yet  fuller  rebuke  upon 
the  speaker, 

"  C3h,  as  to  that,"  said  O'Hara  ruefully, 
driving  his  hand  through  his  red,  unpowdered 
hair,  "  we  were  both  wrong  —  a  pair  of  brutes, 
sir !  But,  sure,  it  was  not  us  at  all  but 
a  trick  of  the  Burgundy.  'T  is  a  powerful 
treacherous  wine,  that  same,  and  you  never 
know  where  it  will  have  you.  But,  whisper 
now,"  momentary  remorse  overcome  by  a 
fresh  exuberance  of  lover's  pride.  "  Was  n't 
I  riglit?  Did  you  ever  see  anything  so 
lovely  as  my  darling  little  Kitty  ?  Don't  I 
wish  she  were  my  darling!  Look  here  now, 
if  she  was  n't  to  have  her  toast  after  all  — 
just  between  ourselves,  sir,  without  disturb- 
ing that  poor  fellow  yonder —  it  would  break 
my  heart,  it  would  be  the  last  drop " 

The  old  gentleman's  severity  of  aspect 
became  mollified.  He  was  not  proof  against 
the  charm  of  O'Hara's  handsome,  gallant 
personality,  his  wheedling  ways,  his  trans- 
parent simplicity  of  heart, 

[  190] 


^  RACHEL     PP:ACE  M 

"  If,  indeed,  you  will  make  it  the  last  drop 
to-night,  sir,"  said  he,  with  a  smile  at  his  own 
conceit,  "  I  have  no  objection  to  joining  in 
your  toast.  I  will  drink  to  Mrs.  Bellairs,  but 
not  so  much  to  the  loveliness  of  her  person, 
which  is  very  great,  but  to  the  loveliness 
of  her  heart." 

He  spoke  in  a  low  voice,  so  as  not  to 
reach  the  ear  of  the  brooding  man  by  the 
fire.  But  became  even  more  emphatic  as  he 
continued: 

"  I  will  own  to  you,  sir,  that  when  I  saw 
Miss  Rachel  Peace  standing  before  us  in  her 
soft  robes  and  milky  pearls,  with  all  the  sorrow 
of  the  world  in  her  beautiful  eyes,  I  thought 
indeed  that  the  lily  far  surpassed  the  rose. 
But  when  Mistress  Bellairs  ran  forward  in 
her  womanly  pity   I  thought,  sir,   I  thought 

"     He  did  not  finish  the    phrase,  but 

there  came  a  mist  over  his  keen  eye.  And 
raisinof  his  Hass,  with  that  slisfht  tremble  of 
the  hand,  he  drank  a  silent  toast. 

Mistress  Kitty  vowed  next  morning  that 
nothing  would  induce  her  to  remain  an  hour 
longer  under  "  that  man's  roof."  And  after  a 
stormy  interview  with  Mr.  O'Hara,  in  which 
the  latter  was  rated,  threatened   with   ever- 


flINCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


lasting  displeasure  and  thereupon  forgiven, 
the  little  lady  and  Lydia  made  unheard-of 
exertion  and  were  ready  close  upon  noon, 
having  only  kept  the  coach  an  hour  waiting 
in  the  snow. 

Her  host  stood  in  the  hall  as  she  passed 
through.  His  brow  was  black,  his  mouth 
set  like  steel.  He  made  her  a  low  bow, 
without  attempting  to  address  her ;  which 
politeness,  with  her  little  chin  high  in  the  air, 
she  returned  with  a  sweeping  curtsey.  He 
watched  the  departure  with  the  same  sus- 
picious eye. 

"  Sure,"  whispered  O'Hara,  upon  her  other 
side,  "  he  's  half  mad.  He's  been  the  whole 
morning  pleading  at  that  poor  girls  door,  but 
she'll  give  him  no  sign  of  life,  and  I  vow 
he 's  afraid  that  we  '11  be  lifting  her  away 
with  us." 

"  So  vastly  probable,"  said  Mistress  Kitty, 
with  some  asperity,  as  she  stepped  into  her 
travellinc:  chariot. 


t> 


It  was  a  still  day  after  the  night's  storm, 
and  a  sky  of  palest  blue  beautifully  envaulted 
tlie  white  earth.  With  hardly  a  sound  over 
the  thick-lying  snow  they  drove  down  the 
great  lime  avenue  —  in  summer  a  humming 

[  192] 


RACHEL     PEACE 


haunt  of  shade  and  sweetness,  now,  with  its 
great  black  trunks  and  giant  nests  of  bare 
twigs,  looking  as  bleak  and  melancholy  under 
the  white  layers  as  a  loveless  old  age. 

Mistress  Kitty,  after  snuffing  out  several 
cheerful  remarks  of  her  Abigail,  sat  in  un- 
wontedly  reflective  mood.  And,  ever  and 
anon,  she  peered  through  the  window  at 
O'Hara's  gallant  figure  on  the  dancing  bay 
(provided  for  him  out  of  his  lordship's  stables, 
to  replace  his  own  lamed  mare)  a  mount 
which  he  sat  as  might  the  unsurpassable 
Mr.  Angelo  himself. 

"  After  all  it  is  something  to  have  the 
devotion  of  one  who  carries  so  true  a  heart 
for  the  woman  he  loves,"  was  her  caressing 
thought. 

As  they  reached  the  lodge  gates,  a  muffled 
figure  darted  out  from  the  porch  into  the  road 
and  waved  a  hand  imploringly.  O'Hara,  rec- 
ognising the  face  under  the  hood,  called  to 
the  coachman  to  stop.  Then  he  drew  back, 
and  Rachel  Peace  ran  to  the  coach's  side 
and  tapped  at  the  glass.  Her  fair  face  bore 
the  mark  of  a  bitter  night-watch  and  of  many 
tears. 

"  For  God's  sake,"  she  cried,  as  Mistress 
Bellairs    quickly    lowered    the  window,  "for 

^3  [  193  ] 


^INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS^ 

God's  sake  take  me  with  you  away  from 
here!  I  have  friends  in  Bath,  I  will  not 
trouble  you  long.  Oh,  as  you  are  a  woman 
and  a  true  one,  take  me !  I  have  slipped  out 
before  the  dawn,  and  he  believes  me  still  in 
my  room.  If  I  see  him  again  I  am  lost  — 
more  lost  than  ever,"  said  Rachel  with  a 
sob. 

Miss  Lydia  sniffed  with  a  mighty  signifi- 
cance, at  which  her  mistress  withered  her 
with  a  glance. 

"Come  in,  my  dear,  come  in!  "  cried  Kitty 
Bellairs,  and  held  out  her  little  warm  hands 
to  poor  Rachel  Peace. 


[  J94] 


V 


"       «A       COLD  night,  sir,  and  a  dark." 
A  \  "  You  say  truly,  landlord  !  " 

jf=W  It  was  a  young  voice  —  so  much 
t^  W  so,  indeed,  as  to  be  still  occasion- 
ally wandering  in  the  debateable  land  be- 
tween boy's  treble  and  man's  bass  —  and,  as 
the  traveller  stepped  from  cold  and  the  black 
night  into  the  light  and  warmth  of  the  inn, 
he  displayed  a  face  and  form  to  match. 

Master  Lawrence,  host  of  "the  Bear," 
Devizes  (famed  for  the  genteelest  rooms,  the 
softest  beds,  and  the  best  "  library  "  between 
London  and  Bath)  ran  his  eye  knowingly 
over  his  guest.  Experience  had  taught  him 
to  classify  at  a  glance :  Here  was  the  young 
gentleman  of  fortune  upon  his  first  inde- 
pendent travels,  type  of  wayfarer  not  the 
least  welcome  to  the  landlord's  heart.     Very 

[195] 


^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^ 

young,  this  one,  innocent  yet  of  the  grand 
tour.  And  wealthy  !  Sables  to  his  ro^/ue/atire 
that  would  make  a  lady's  eye  glisten,  watches, 
ruffle-brooches  —  all  new.  In  mourning,  too. 
No  doubt  his  own  master. 

Mine  host  rubbed  his  hands. 

"Bedroom,  sir?  I  can  fortunately  still 
give  you  our  best  set  —  vacated  only  this 
morning  by  Sir  Jasper  Standish  —  with  room 
for  your  valet,  next  door  ;  and  supper  in  half- 
an-hour.  I  trust  your  lordship  has  not  been 
stopped  this  dark  night  ?  " 

"  Stopped  } " 

"  Aye,  there  are  again  some  of  the  snaffling 
gentry  between  here  and  Reading " 

"  Snaffling  gentry  .  .  .?  Oho  !"  cried  the 
young  gentleman  and  tried  to  look  knowing, 
but  his  eyes  were  round  and  vague. 

"  But  your  lordship's  come  to  the  right 
house  ;  no  fear  of  information  leaking  from 
'  the  Bear,'  my  lord." 

"  I  am  no  lord,"  said  the  boy,  whose  peach- 
like cheek  had  turned  of  a  deeper  hue,  each 
time  the  tentative  address  had  grated  upon  his 
ear.  "  Mr.  Jernigan  of  Costessy,  if  you  must 
know." 

The  landlord  bowed,  a  trifle  deeper  than 
he  had  bowed  before. 

[196] 


THE    LITTLE    LOVER 


"  Indeed,  sir !  "  quoth  he  as  if  mightily 
impressed  —  for  if  he  did  not  know  the  name, 
which  is  of  the  east  country,  he  knew  the 
type  of  traveller  as  we  have  said  before. 

Mr.  Jernigan  here  turned,  with  a  charming 
bashful  consciousness  of  his  own  importance, 
to  permit  his  valet  to  divest  him  of  his  muf- 
flings.  And  the  landlord  chuckled  to  himself 
to  hear  the  man,  most  obviously  an  old  fam- 
ily retainer,  whisper:  "Are  your  feet  damp. 
Master  Julian  ?  "  and  to  mark  the  petulant 
annoyance  with  which  the  latter  whisked 
himself  out  of  his  coat  and  stood  forth,  so 
slim,  so  comely  and  so  youthful  —  so  very 
youthful  in  the  dancing  light  of  the  great 
fire. 

"  Have  you  many  people  in  the  house, 
landlord  ? "  inquired  the  traveller  in  a 
manner  calculated  to  remove  any  false 
impression  of  juvenility  which  might  have 
been  suggested  by  old  Jonas's  absurd 
solicitude. 

"  Our  common  rooms  are  all  full,  being 
market  day  to-morrow ;  but  for  the  upper 
parlours,  sir,  a  few  gentlemen,  who,  like 
yourself,  have  found  the  night  too  cold  to 
push  on  to  Bath."  He  paused,  jerked  out 
his  chin.     He  was  listening.     "  If  I  mistake 

[  197  ] 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS 


not,  here  come  other  claimants  for  the  far- 
famed  hospitality  of  'the  Bear.'" 

Master  Lawrence  had  a  neat  command  of 
language.  Indeed,  he  was  decidedly  a  man 
of  parts,  who  had  oddly  drifted  into  inn- 
keeping.  If  he  found  a  special  pleasure  in 
his  present  avocation  it  was  (as  he  was  fond 
of  saying)  because  it  takes  a  gentleman  to 
deal  rightly  with  gentlefolks  ;  and  then  he 
would  more  than  hint  at  the  elegant 
vicissitudes  of  his  past  life. 

To  hear  the  clatter  of  hoofs,  the  breezy  cry 
of  "House!",  the  sounds  of  stable  bustle 
rising  in  the  night,  to  see  mine  host  hurry 
to  the  door  with  the  same  mixture  of  pat- 
ronage and  obsequiousness  with  which  he 
had  himself  just  been  received,  filled  Mr. 
Jernigan's  bosom  with  a  flutter  of  expectancy. 
He  lingered  by  the  hearth.  All  things  were 
pleasingly  new  to  him. 

Master  Lawrence,  poised  for  his  bow,  had 
already  begun  to  classify:  "Chaise  with  coat 
of  arms.  Post  horses,  a  vast  amount  of  luo;- 
gage.  Lady  of  fashion  — rich  lady  of  fashion. 
Plague  take  me  to  have  let  the  best  rooms  to 
that  green-sprig  .  .  .  Three  ladies!  Nay, 
two  and  a  maid.  Capons  and  Sillery, 
blanc-mange  and    cakes.     Aye,  whom  have 

[.98] 


m    THE    LITTLE    LOVER    ^ 

we  here  ?  A  horseman.  Bless  my  soul  !  " 
cried  the  innkeeper  aloud,  "if  it  is  not  Mr. 
O'Hara  !  "  He  pulled  a  grimace  between 
hilarity  and  anxiety.  "  This  means  a  thinner 
cellar  to-night.  Would  I  were  as  sure  of  a 
fatter  purse  !  " 

But  the  2:ood  man's  brow  cleared  as  a 
sweet  imperious  voice  issued  from  the  deeps 
of  the  chaise,  and  a  little  round  face,  peering 
out,  caught  the  light  from  the  hospitably  ex- 
tended doors. 

"  Mistress  Bellairs!"  — 

Mistress  Bellairs,  rich,  fastidious  and  lavish, 
as  he  knew ;  who,  wherever  she  went,  was 
promptly  surrounded  by  a  kind  of  little 
court. 

"  You  are  welcome  at  '  the  Bear,'  Madam. 
Allow  me  to  give  you  a  hand.  What  a  night 
for  a  lady  like  you  to  be  on  the  road !  " 

As  if  in  dramatic  emphasis  a  wild  gust  of 
wind,  wet-dabbled  with  sleet,  took  up  the 
cue  and  drove  Mistress  Kitty  Bellairs  in  at 
the  door  like  a  ball  of  thistledown. 

Then  Julian  Jernigan,  watching  all  agog, 
saw  how  this  same  mocking  storm-wind 
fought  with  the  second  traveller  as  she 
descended  from  the  chaise.  How  it  tore 
apart  the  wings  of  her  cloak,  swept  fluttering 

[  199  ] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


garments  close  against  the  slender  swaying 
limbs,  engulphed  itself  in  the  secrets  of  her 
very  hood,  to  lay  bare  triumphantly  a 
countenance,  pale  as  a  pearl,  fair  as  a  flower. 
And  Julian,  looking,  felt  within  himself  a 
singular  stirring,  for  it  was  a  countenance 
beyond  the  beauty  of  his  dearest  dream.  And 
upon  the  fair  surface  of  his  virgin  heart  the 
impression  was  struck  with  a  pang  that  went 
beyond  joy,  fairly  into  pain. 

His  head  swirled  as  giddily  as  the  smoke 
in  the  eddying  gusts.  When  he  came  to 
himself  the  travellers  were  grouped  within 
a  yard  of  him  —  all  looking  towards  him. 
A  little  lady  with  kitten  face  and  eyes 
like  brown  pansies ;  his  own  bewilderingly 
lovely  lady,  with  a  gaze  that  looked  be- 
yond him  and  saw  him  not;  a  merry  gentle- 
man, whose  red  curls  shone  crisp  through 
faint  powdering  and  whose  merry  orbs 
twinkled  in  a  disconcerting  manner.  And 
the  landlord,  although  still  addressing  him- 
self to  the  new  comers,  was  obviously  talking 
at  him. 

"  If  I  had  had  any  warning  of  Mistress 
Bellairs'  honoured  arrival,"  he  was  saying 
emphatically,  "  I  should  have  reserved  the 
best  rooms  for  her.     It  is  not,  I  protest,  five 

[  200  ] 


THE    LITTLE    LOVER 


minutes  since  I  promised  them  to  this 
gentleman." 

"  Sure,"  cried  the  man  with  the  merry 
eyes,  "it's  the  grandest  opportunity  he's 
ever  had  in  his  life ! " 

Still  giddy  from  his  sudden  emotion  Mr. 
Jernigan  failed  to  perceive  the  drift  of  these 
observations.  The  pansy-eyes  first  looked 
reproachful,  then  shot  sparks  of  anger.  But 
sweetly  indifferent  were  those  other  eyes  — 
grey  violets  wet  with  autumn  rain  —  that 
looked  past  him  and  through  him  into  the 
fire  behind. 

"  I  could  give  the  young  gentleman  a  very 
good  bed,  all  to  himself,  his  only  other  com- 
panion would  be  a  distinguished  officer " 

A  light  broke  upon  the  boy :  "  My 
rooms  !  "  he  cried,  "  Oh,  certainly,  I  am  only 
too  glad —  Pray,  Madam,  consider  them  ab- 
solutely at  your  disposal!" 

Mistress  Bellairs  had  turned  a  very  engag- 
ing smile  upon  him  ;  but  as  he  finished  his 
sentence  to  her  silent  companion,  she  tossed 
her  head  ever  so  slightly:  "I  thank  you, 
sir,"  said  she. 

"  Did  n't  I  tell  you  !  "  exclaimed  the  gentle- 
man whom  the  landlord  had  greeted  as  Mr. 
O'Hara :    "  the   opportunity   of    a   lifetime  ! 

[201  ] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


You  're  young  yet,  sir,  but  if  you  live  to  be 
a  hundred,  you'll  never  regret  that  four-post 
bed  ! " 

AlthouQ^h  of  an  asre  which  does  not  as  a 
rule  relish  being  reminded  of  its  immaturity, 
Julian  Jernigan  found  something  so  genial 
in  the  speaker's  broad  smile,  that  his  own 
lips  promptly  responded.  Mistress  Bellairs 
suddenly  paused  as  she  was  about  to  move 
away.  There  was  no  doubt  about  it:  here 
was  an  uncommonly  comely  youth.  She 
had  no  objection  herself  to  the  April  of 
manhood  ;  and  when  it  smiled  like  that, 
when  it  had  such  an  ingenuously  blush- 
ing cheek  and  stood  withal  in  so  pretty  a 
gentility,  she  considered  it  quite  worth  culti- 
vating, were  it  only  for  a  winter  evening's 
entertainment. 

"  Truly,"  said  she,  "  this  is  vastly  civil  ! 
We  are  under  obligation  to  you,  sir.  Per- 
haps," she  added  with  a  half  turn  of  her 
little  capuchine  towards  her  escort,  "  perhaps 
the  gentleman  would  give  us  the  privilege  of 
his  company  at  table  to-night." 

Oh,  with  what  an  infinity  of  pleasure! 
Mr.  Jernigan  stammered,  blushed,  could  find 
no  suitable  words;  but  his  guileless  emotion 
was  very  eloquent. 

[  202  ] 


THE    LITTLE    LOVER 


"  We  shall  be  charmed,"  asserted  the 
lady  in  a  delicate  tone  of  patronage.  "  And 
Mistress  Bellairs  is  your  hostess's  name." 

She  sketched  him  the  curtsey  of  a  woman 
of  quality,  expressive  of  the  exact  terms  she 
wished  to  inaugurate.     Julian  bowed. 

"  Mr.  O'Hara,  sir."  She  waved  her  hand. 
«  Mr. ?  " 

She  was  poised  on  the  edge  of  the  query 
like  a  bird  on  a  twig.  And  as  the  young 
traveller  once  more  gave  his  name  and  state 
he  felt  he  must  have  exhausted  his  stock  of 
blushes,  yet  was  not  without  a  tingle  of  pride 
in  the  goodly  ring  of  the  old  patronymic. 
And  Mistress  Bellairs  was  not  without  an 
air  of  approval  herself  and  the  condescension 
of  recollecting  that  she  had  acquaintance 
with  certain  of  his  kin.  Then:  "  Mr.  O'Hara, 
son  of  my  Lord  Kilcroney,  "  said  she,  pro- 
ceeding with  her  introductions  in  good  form, 
"  Mr.  Jernigan  of  Costessy." 

"  Delighted  to  know  you,  my  boy ! "  said 
the  merry  gentleman  with  a  rich  and  genial 
accent  that  was  strange  to  Julian's  ears. 

"  We  shall  meet  then,  presently,"  said 
Mistress  Bellairs.  But  Mr.  Jernigan,  whose 
glance  for  ever  roamed  back  to  the  tall  lady 
who    stood,    so   seemingly    apart,    with    sad 

[203  ] 


^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^ 

dreaming  eyes  fixed  upon  the  fire,  now 
looked  acrain  towards  her,  in  such  evident 
surprise  and  expectation,  that  Mrs.  Bellairs 
followed  the  direction  of  his  gaze.  For  a 
scarce  perceptible  instant,  she  hesitated,  then 
flushed : 

"  My  friend,"  said  she.  "  My  friend,  Miss 
Rachel." 

The  girl  started  and  shifted  her  slow  eyes 
from  the  speaker  to  the  young  stranger  who 
bent  before  her  with  an  air  of  profound 
deference.  As  he  rose  from  his  bow,  their 
glances  met  and  he  was  struck  to  the  heart 
again:  by  her  beauty  as  before,  but  also  by 
something  else  —  by  those  deeps  of  sorrow 
in  the  violets  of  her  eyes. 

•  ••••••  • 

"  I  insist  on  your  coming  down  to  supper," 
said  Kitty.  The  tone  of  her  voice  conveyed 
anger,  and  so  did  the  stamp  of  her  red  heel ; 
but  there  was  a  glimmer  as  of  tears  on  the 
edge  of  her  eyelashes.  The  great,  long  room 
was  sparsely  lit,  though  Lydia  had  foraged 
the  inn  for  candles.  There  were  gulfs  of 
gloom  behind  the  four-post  bed.  True,  the 
panelled  walls  and  the  carpetless  boards  re- 
flected the  flame  of  the  candles  here  and 
there    on    their   high    polished    surface,   but 

[  204  ] 


THE    LITTLE    LOVER 


they  shone  with  no  more  effect  than  Httle 
yellow  crocuses  scattered  in  a  desolate  brown 
garden. 

Kitty's  travelling  companion  had  laid  aside 
her  cloak  and  hood,  but  shared  in  none  of 
Mrs.  Bellairs'  toilet  activities.  Sitting  oppo- 
site the  newly-kindled  fire,  she  was  once 
more  gazing  before  her  with  hands  listlessly 
folded  on  her  lap.  At  the  petulant  address 
she  rose. 

"  Indeed,   I  pray  you  to  excuse  me." 

"  I  '11  not  excuse  you !  You  've  scarce 
taken  bite  or  sup  to-day." 

"  I  can  be  served  here." 

"  Worse  and  worse  !  The  thing  's  out  of 
all  reason." 

"  Alas,  madam,  there  is  but  too  good 
reason  !     Yourself  —  yourself " 

"  Myself,  what,  pray  ?  " 

"  You  could  not  bring  yourself  to  give  my 
full  name  to  the  young  gentleman.  Oh,  you 
are  right :  I  have  cast  discredit  upon  it.  I 
would  not  cast  discredit  upon  you." 

Kitty  flamed  scarlet  and  the  tears  brim- 
ming between  her  eyelashes  suddenly  bub- 
bled over.  She  made  a  rush  forward  and 
caught  the  other  in  a  tight  clasp. 

"  It  was  not  for  that ! "  she  cried  in  tones 

[205] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


that  would  scream  down  an  inner  sense  of 
cuilt.  Then,  shakinsr  her  friend  and  scold- 
ing  passionately :  "  How  dare  you  say  so ! 
'Twas  for  you,  'twas  to  spare  you!  Why, 
Rachel  Peace,  the  celebrated  actress,  if  it 
got  about  the  house,  they  would  stare  us  to 
death!  Why,  child,  who  knows  or  cares 
about  your  private  misfortune?  I,  for  one, 
think  you  're  the  purest  soul  I  've  ever  met. 
Oh  I  you  foolish  thing,  I  say  you  shall  not 
remain  here  moping  !  I  '11  not  eat  a  morsel 
if  you  don't  come  down.  Nay,  Rachel,  for 
love  of  me  !  " 

Now,  when  her  benefactress  said  :  "  For 
love  of  me  I  "  Rachel  Peace  bowed  her  head 
meekly;  for  what  could  she  do  but  submit.'' 

"  Lydia,"  cried  Mrs.  Bellairs,  turning  sud- 
denly upon  her  tirewoman  who  was  whisk- 
ing garments  about  and  inhaling  the  air  with 
the  most  protesting  sounds  she  dared  make : 
"  sniff  once  more  .  .  .  and  you  quit  my 
service  at  Bath  !  " 


"  And  pray,  yang  man,  are  you  aware  that 
this  is  my  room  ?  Stap  my  vitals,"  cried 
Captain  Spicer,  "shall  not  a  gentleman  have 
his  privacy  I  " 

Julian  Jernigan    lifted    his    drijDping    face 

r  206  ] 


^    THE    LITTLE    LOVER    '^ 

from  the  basin  where  he  had  been  sluicing 
away  in  cold  water  the  stain  of  travel,  and 
turned  it,  rosy  and  shining,  upon  the  inter- 
pellator.  Viewing  the  latter's  spindle  frame 
and  long  bilious  countenance  with  some 
disfavour,  he  answered  haughtily  that  the 
companionship  was  none  of  his  choice,  but 
the  landlord's. 

"  Too  bad  of  the  fallow !  "  asseverated  the 
Captain  closing  the  door  with  military  clat- 
ter. "  The  creature  wants  a  lesson.  Rat 
him!  He  must  be  taught  how  to  behave 
to  a  gen "     He  broke  off  abruptly. 

Swaggering  up  to  the  table,  legs  well 
apart,  he  had  caught  sight  of  some  of  Mr. 
Jernigan's  belongings  carelessly  thrown  upon 
it  —  a  silver-hilted  sword ;  a  heavy  chain  with 
a  bunch  of  seals  and  a  brace  of  watches,  one 
of  these  encrusted  with  gold  of  three  colours 
and  little  gems ;  a  silken  purse,  agreeably 
swollen  at  either  end.  Such  a  purse  as 
Captain  Spicer  had  rarely  had  the  privilege 
of  holding  in  his  hand,  but  of  the  kind  which 
he  benevolently  desired  to  find  in  the  posses- 
sion of  those  young  favourites  of  fortune  to 
whom  it  was  his  life-vocation  to  attach  him- 
self,    A  glitter  came  into  his  pale  eyes. 

There  was,  as  we  know,  a  certain  obliquity 

[  207  ] 


^iS 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


of  vision  connected  with  these  orbs  at  the 
best  of  times.  But  when  their  owner  be- 
came excited  the  peculiarity  increased  to 
an  alarming  extent.  Just  now,  however,  it 
seemed  to  provide  him  with  the  advantage 
of  fixins:  the  articles  on  the  table  and  the 
young  gentleman  at  the  wash-hand  stand  at 
one  and  the  same  time. 

"  Though,  indeed,"  he  went  on,  and  had 
no  shame  in  this  ungraduated  change  from 
blustering  to  fawning,  "  when  one  is  quar- 
tered with  so  gallant  a  companion  as  your- 
self, sir,  by  the  Lard,  a  man  would  be  charl 
to  find  grounds  for  aught  but  congratala- 
tion." 

And  while,  over  the  edge  of  the  towel, 
Julian  regarded  him  with  innocent  amaze- 
ment, the  astute  parasite  proceeded: 

"  In  the  Sarvice,  sir?  No.^*  Strange,  you 
have  the  military  air.  On  your  way  back 
from  the  Grand  Tour,  I  presume  —  there  is, 
I  see,  the  fareign  dash — No.^*  Ah!  but 
you've  had  your  racket  in  Tawn."  And  this 
last  impeachment,  blushing  down  to  the  fine 
ruffled  shirt,  parted  upon  a  throat  as  white 
and  round  as  a  girl's,  the  poor  boy,  who  felt 
his  lovely  youth  such  a  burden,  had  not  the 
courage  to  disclaim. 

[  208  ] 


^THE     LITTLE    LOVER H 

"Master  Ju,"  said  the  old  servant,  popping 
in  his  head  unceremoniously  at  the  door, 
"  will  I  give  you  a  hand  with  your  cue  ?  " 
And  Mr.  Jernigan,  of  Costessy,  felt  it  incum- 
bent upon  his  dignity  to  dismiss  the  over- 
ofBcious  valet  with  a  proper  and  manlike 
brevity :  "  When  I  require  you,  Jonas,  I  shall 
summon  you." 

If  Mistress  Bellairs  had  thought  Julian 
Jernigan  a  pretty  youth  as  he  stood,  garbed 
for  travelling,  in  the  shadowy  fireglow,  she 
thought  him  ten  times  more  so  as  he  entered 
her  brilliantly  lit  parlour.  With  an  eye  that 
had  something  maternal  in  its  appraising,  the 
young  widow  noted  how  the  colour  came  and 
went  upon  his  fair  cheek ;  how  the  quick 
breath  fluttered  his  nostrils,  yet  how  high  he 
held  his  crested  head  with  its  nimbus  of  pow- 
dered hair ;  how  deliberately  he  moved  and 
yet  with  how  boyish  a  consciousness  of  every- 
body's gaze. 

"Mr.  Stafford  — Mr.  Jernigan."  It  was 
quite  a  minute  before  the  buzzing  blood  in 
Julian's  ears  subsided  sufficiently  to  enable 
him  to  understand  w^iat  Mrs.  Bellairs  was 
saying,  as,  after  mechanically  bowing  to  an 
unknown  gentleman,  he  took  seat  between 

14  [  209  ] 


gnNCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^ 

her  and  the  lady  whom  he  knew  as  Miss 
Rachel. 

"Mr.  Stafford,"  quoth  Kitty,  "is  an  old 
friend.  He  heard  of  my  being  on  the  road 
to  Bath,  and  started  immediately  to  meet 
me.     I  feel  prodigious  flattered." 

She  extended  a  white  hand  towards  the 
gentleman  in  question.  But,  having  to  pass 
Mr.  O'Hara  to  reach  him,  the  latter  seized  it 
and  bestowed  such  tender  kisses  upon  it  that 
positively  Mr.  Jernigan  could  not  look  on, 
but  had  to  keep  his  eyes  bent  on  his  plate. 
Through  the  clamour  of  laughter  and  protest 
there  stole  upon  his  consciousness  a  voice 
as  sweet  and  low  as  the  sigh  of  an  yEolian 
harp. 

"  Are  you  travelling  alone  ?  "  Rachel 
Peace  was  askino;. 

He  turned  to  find  her  lookinor  at  him  with 
such  kindness  m  her  eyes  that  his  heart 
fluttered.  He  thought  to  divine  that  to  her 
this  mockery  of  love  and  courtship,  in  which 
Mrs.  Bellairs  seemed  to  have  her  being,  was 
as  embarrassing  as  it  was  to  him.  Nay,  she 
seemed  to  shrink  from  even  the  proximity 
of  her  gallant  and  handsome  neighbour,  Mr. 
Stafford;  to  have  gathered  her  skirts  away, 
to  have  shifted  her  seat  as  far  as  possible.    A 

[2,0] 


^    THE    LITTLE    LOVER    ^ 

circumstance  which,  while  it  made  him 
wonder  a  little,  he  rejoiced  at  —  for  did  it  not 
bring  her  into  sweet  proximity  to  himself 
—  the  fall  of  her  lace,  the  curve  of  her  grey 
sleeve  now  and  again  brushing  his  arm  and 
sending  thrills  of  that  new  joyful  pain  to  his 
heart. 

"  I  have  been  visiting  relatives  in  the 
south,"  confided  the  youth,  "  and  am  now  on 
my  way  to  the  Bath,  where  I  am  awaited  by 
an  uncle." 

She  glanced  at  the  deep  black  of  the 
sleeve;  then  she  said,  with  a  sigh  running 
through   the  words: 

"  I,  too,  am  alone." 

He  ventured  to  look  full  at  the  delicate 
face  bending  towards  him. 

"  Alone  ?  "  he  queried,  ardent  admiration, 
respectful  sympathy  in  his  tone.  "Alone!" 
That  she  should  be  alone,  and  wear  that 
plaintive  sorrow  of  it  in  her  eye ! 

"Yes,"  she  told  him,  sinking  her  voice 
still  lower,  "  I  am  only  travelling  with  this 
lady  a  little  way.  She  has  been  very  good 
to  me,  but  we  do  not  belong  together." 

He  was  not  surprised  at  that.  Mis- 
tress Bellairs  was  very  kind,  no  doubt,  and 
vastly  admired,  evidently ;  but,  compared  to 

[.II] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


Her  .  .  .  !  His  emboldened  eye  moved 
quickly  from  one  to  the  other,  betraying 
his  thought.  She  pressed  her  lips  together 
and  then,  drawing  a  quick  breath,  laid  her 
finger  on  his  black  cuff. 

"  1  want  to  tell  you  something,"  she  said 
almost  inaudibly.  "  My  name  is  Rachel 
Peace." 

His  innocent  blue  2:aze  widened;  then  he 
smiled  like  a  delighted  child. 

"  What  a  lovely  name,  and  how  it  suits 
you,  Madam  !     Rachel   Peace !  " 

To  his  immense  discomfiture  he  spoke 
the  words  into  a  sudden  silence  and  found 
that,  the  scene  of  coquetry  opposite  having 
abruptly  ceased,  he  was  again  the  centre  of 
attention.  But  he  did  not  notice  that,  beside 
him,  Rachel  had  cast  down  her  eyes  and 
grown  white  to  the  lips.  Perhaps  Kitty, 
in  spite  of  her  laughter  was  not  above  a 
feminine  jDique  to  find  that  the  pretty  boy 
had  positively  no  eyes  for  another  charming 
presence.  Perhaps  she  was  displeased  with 
her  protegee  for  betraying  her  own  pious 
fraud.  At  any  rate,  she  here  remarked,  with 
some  dryness  that  doubtless  Mr.  Jernigan 
was  already  familiar  with   the  name. 

The  boy  looked  bewildered  :  "  lliere  is  a 

[  ^^^  ] 


^ITHE    LITTLE     LOVER    |1 

most  respected  family  of  Friends,  at  Norwich 

"  he  began,  when  feeling  the  girl  start 

beside  him,  he  stopped,  looked  at  her  hesitat- 
ingly and  saw  her  crimson  to  the  temples. 

Then  Mr.  Stafford  leaned  across  the  table 
and  spoke:  — 

"  The  fact  is,"  said  he,  "  we  have  been 
unkind,  Mr.  Jernigan,  in  not  informing  you 
of  the  privilege  you  enjoy  to-night.  Miss 
Rachel  Peace  is  one  of  England's  most  gifted 
actresses,  a  lady  universally  admired  and  uni- 
versally respected,  and  the  Prince  of  Wales 
himself  might  well  envy  you  your  place 
beside  her." 

The  full  white  lids  of  Rachel's  eyes  were 
cast  down  till  the  long  lashes  seemed  to 
sweep  the  cheek.  One  would  have  scarce 
thought  she  heard,  but  for  the  wavering 
colour  and  the  sensitive  trembling  of  her 
lips.  Mr.  O'Hara  was  thumping  the  table 
in  vehement  approval. 

"  Did  n't  I  tell  you  !  "  said  he.  "  Ah,  it 's 
not  everybody,  my  boy,  that  can  say  he  sat 
between  Bellairs,  who  has  broken  every  heart 
in  England,  and  Peace  —  who's  trampled  on 
all  the  rest.  Keep  the  secret  dark,  my  dear 
friend,  or  we  '11  be  having  a  mob  in  upon 
us!" 

[213  ] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^ 


Kitty  bridled.  Mr.  O'Hara's  comparative 
compliments  struck  her  as  clumsy.  As  for 
Julian  he  was  frankly  bewildered  :  this  dove- 
grey  lady,  witli  the  sad  and  tender  eyes,  this 
fulfilment  of  all  his  loveliest  presentiments  — 
an  actress !  Then  had  he  been  throus^h  life 
misled ;  then  was  an  actress's  calling  the 
most  noble,  the  most  soul-inspiring  which 
a  woman  could  follow;  then  was  the  play- 
house the  nursery  of  all  beautiful  dignity, 
all  white-winged  modesty  !  But  why,  upon 
their  praise  of  her,  should  she  droop  her 
head  and  wear  the  pain  of  the  world  in 
her  sweet  face .'' 

Into  this  silence,  pregnant  with  doubt 
and  trouble,  everyone  welcomed  an  external 
diversion  —  a  s^entle  scratchinor  which  was 
now  heard  at  the  door. 

"  Come  in  !  "  cried  Kitty  petulantly.  And 
as  the  scratchino^  but  continued  louder: 
"Come  in!"  cried  Stafford  with  all  the 
volume  of  his  sonorous  voice,  while  :  "  More 
power  to  your  claw!  "  exclaimed  Mr.  O'Hara, 
a  kind  of  observation  with  which  that  o;entle- 
man  made  free  —  much  to  Julian  Jernigan's 
mystification. 

But  if  the  scratching  had  been  welcome, 
the  scratcher  himself,  as  he  inserted  a  long 

[2>4] 


THE    LITTLE    LOVER    El 


w\ 


sallow  countenance  through  the  gingerly 
opened  door,  was  not. 

"  Why,  't  is  Captain  Spicer,"  said  Kitty  in 
tones  of  disgusted  astonishment. 

"  Spoicer,  is  it.?"  ejaculated  the  Honour- 
able Denis,  and  muttered  something  anent 
the  devil's  impudence,  between  his  teeth. 

"  Mr.  Spicer,  sir,"  said  Stafford  with  the 
most  deadly  politeness,  "you  are  evidently 
mistaking  —  this  is  not  the  public  room  !  " 

But  Captain  Spicer  had  made  good  his 
footing  and  was  now  advancing  upon  the 
table  with  that  winning  sidle  characteristic  of 
his  most  elegant  moments. 

Once  again  all  Julian's  unschooled  blood 
rushed  to  his  cheeks.  He  felt  a  sort  of 
responsibility  for  the  appearance  of  his 
chance  chamber-mate,  whose  conversation  he 
was  now  ashamed  of  having  found  entertain- 
ing since  this  military  gentleman  was  known 
only  in  ill-regard  by  his  table  companions. 

"  Aha,  my  young  friend ! "  said  the 
intruder,  menacing  him  with  a  waggish 
finger,  "  so  here  is  the  mysterious  lady  for 
whom  you  denied  me  your  company  at 
sapper.  No  less  a  parson  than  the  lavely 
Kitty.  .  .  .  O'Hara,  my  boy,  the  tap  of  the 
night  to  you — as  you  would  say  yourself." 


^INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS^ 

("  The  tap  of  my  toe  to  ye,"  muttered 
O'Hara.)     "  Staff ard,  old  crony " 

"  This  room  is  a  private  room,  Captain 
Spicer,"  said  Stafford  with  his  former  cruel 
suavity,  while  Kitty,  after  staring  with  per- 
fectly expressionless  eyes  at  the  Captain's 
wreathed  countenance,  suddenly  began  to 
address  O'Hara  with  that  perfection  of  in- 
solence only  to  be  encompassed  by  a  woman 
of  the  highest  fashion : 

"  The  creature  had  the  face  to  call  upon 
mc  in  town,  nay,  I  had  to  get  Sir  George 
Payne  to  turn  him  out  of  my  box  at  Covent 
Garden " 

Even  Captain  Spicer,  although  it  was  the 
trade  of  his  life  to  swallow  rebuffs,  as  a  dog 
swallows  crusts  in  the  hope  of  better  morsels, 
could  scarce  keep  up  his  smile  of  assurance 
before  such  a  reception.  His  cheeks  grew 
mottled ;  he  breathed  hard  ;  his  eyes  squinted 
more  fearfully  than  ever  as  they  roamed  from 
face  to  face.  All  at  once  they  halted :  their 
obliquity  drew  together  and  there  was  a  kind 
of  flicker  between  their  white  eyelashes. 

"  And  pray,  my  fair  Bell  airs,  how  is  it  we 
still  find  you  fair  Bellairs  ?  When  last  I  was 
in  Tawn  with  my  Lard  Ffarringdon,  the 
warld    was    ringing     with     noble     news    of 

[2,6] 


THE     LITTLE    LOVER 


approaching  wedding-bells,  he,  he !  Were 
there  other  claimants  for  my  Lord  Man- 
deville's  ring,  eh,  Staffard  ?  " 

Julian  felt  a  sort  of  shudder  run  through 
the  still  figure  at  his  side,  then  a  faint 
movement,  as  if  towards  flight.  There  was  a 
pause,  the  tension  of  which  oppressed  even 
him  who  knew  nothing. 

"He,  he!"  cried  Captain  Spicer,  now  giv- 
ing full  vent  to  a  triumphant  spitefulness. 
"  Is  it  passible.  .  .  .  Do  I  behold  the  beau- 
teous Thespian,  Miss  Peace  ?  Verily,  it  is 
even  so  ...  O  Peace,  Peace,  why  didst 
thou  leave  the  Tawn  in  desalation?" 

And  Julian,  who  of  her  fellow-guests  was 
the  only  one  that  dared  look  at  Rachel, 
saw  her  slowly  rear  her  head  upon  her 
long  throat  and  fix  a  steady  eye  upon  the 
speaker. 

"  Spicer,"  said  Mr.  O'Hara,  suddenly 
springing  to  his  feet,  "  I  '11  give  you  ten 
seconds  to  take  your  nose  out  of  the  reach 
of  my  fingers  !  " 

"Open  the  door,  O'Hara!"  Stafford  was 
crying  at  the  same  instant.  "  I  was  reckoned 
pretty  good  at  football  in  my  day." 

The  cheeks  of  the  led-captain  worked  as 
you  may  see  those  of  an  angry  toad.     Once 

[  217  ] 


^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS# 

ai^ain  he  looked  from  right  to  left  choosing 
the  spot  where  to  split  his  venom.     Then  : 

"  Ha ! "  cried  he,  forgetting  the  last  rem- 
nant of  his  professional  prudence  in  a  fresh 
spasm  of  malignity.  "  Pradigious  clever 
move  of  yours,  Mrs.  Kitty,  to  have  kidnapped 
the  chief  impediment!  He-he!  I  begin  to 
understand,  navv,  how  the  vartuous  Bellairs 
finds  herself  in  sach  campany  !  " 

Then,  twisting  round  and  thrusting  his 
lean  chin  over  Julian's  shoulder,  offensively 
close  to   Rachel's  face  : 

"  And  pray,  Miss,"  said  he,  "  how  did  you 
leave  my  Lord  Mandeville  ?  " 

Upon  this  there  was  a  rising  in  three 
quarters  of  the  table  at  once  and  a  sudden 
scuffle  in  the  midst  of  which  it  was  hard  to 
discriminate.  But  Kitty  Bellairs,  watching 
with  interest,  thought  to  distinguish  that 
he  who  —  dashing  back  his  chair  —  slapped 
Captain  Spicer  across  the  face  with  a  nap- 
kin, was  Mr.  Jernigan  of  Costessy :  while  it 
was  Mr.  Stafford  and  Mr.  O'Hara  who  be- 
tween them  hustled  the  intruder  through 
the  door. 

The  fracas  once  fairly  over,  however,  the 
little  widow  felt  it  incumbent  upon  her  to  be 
seized  with  a  delicate  fit  of  vapours.     And 

[218] 


iTHE    LITTLE    LOVER 


this  new  excitement  so  fully  occupied  the 
attention  of  herself  and  her  two  cavaliers 
that  it  was  not  until  Rachel,  rising  from 
her  seat,  clasped  her  hands  and  exclaimed  in 
tones  of  anguish  :  "  Merciful  heavens  —  where 
is  Mr.  Jernigan  ?  "  that,  looking  round  in  sur- 
prise, they  perceived  the  young  gentleman's 
absence. 

"Oh!"  cried  Rachel,  "he  has  gone  forth 
to  quarrel  —  a  mere  lad.  —  For  pity's  sake, 
gentlemen,  seek  him  !  Prevent  blood- 
shed .  .  .  Ah!  what  have  I  done  that  this 
curse  of  drawn  swords  should  follow  me 
wherever  I  go ! " 

When  Mr.  Stafford  and  Mr.  O'Hara,  to 
calm  the  Quaker's  distress,  and  perhaps 
slightly  infected  themselves  by  her  alarm, 
went  forth  to  seek  young  Mr.  Jernigan,  they 
looked  for  him  in  vain  through  hall  and 
parlour.  Then,  proceeding  to  his  chamber, 
they  were  met  at  the  door  by  old  Jonas,  who 
seemed  in  great  anxiety  of  mind. 

"  Oh,  sirs,"  he  cried,  "  there  's  the  devil's 
work  going  on  in  here  .  .  .  and  they  've 
locked  themselves  in ! "  Then  the  man's 
face  worked.  "  He  's  the  last  of  the  old 
stock!"  said  he. 

[219] 


^INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRSil 

"  Pooh  !"  cried  Denis,  consolingly,  "  what 
a  pother  all  this  about  nothing.  Spicer  wags 
his  tongue  more  freely  than  his  sword,  I  'II 
tell  you  that !  " 

And,  indeed,  when  they  reached  the  locked 
door  and  stood  all  three,  on  a  sudden  impulse, 
listening,  it  certainly  did  seem  as  if  the  light- 
hearted  gentleman's  opinion  were  the  correct 
one.  For  Spicer's  voice  was  grinding  on 
within,  evidently  on  peaceful  terms  intent ; 
nay,  he  was  punctuating  his  discourse  by 
cackling  self-applause. 

O'Hara   bent  his  ear  to  catch  the  words : 

"  Stap  me,  you  don't  knaw  your  friends, 
sir,"  the  gallant  Captain  was  saying.  "Come, 
give  me  the  key,  my  good  lad :  by  the  Lard, 
I  've  no  quarrel  with  you." 

"  But  I  've  a  quarrel  with  you,  sir  —  "  and 
old  Jonas  started  to  hear  his  little  master 
speak  with  that  new  note  of  manliness, 
"  you  have  insulted,  sir,  a  lady  whom  I 
honour,  whom    I   revere  .  .  ." 

Here  the  lad's  voice  trembled,  and  Stafford 
and  O'Hara  exchanged  a  smile  which  was  un- 
consciously tender. —  It  was  as  if  the  ghost 
of  their  own  dead  boyhood  rose  before  them  : 
they  had  passed  that  way  themselves.  And  oh, 
what  a  long  road  had  they  not  travelled  since! 

[  220  ] 


THE    LITTLE     LOVERS 


Xi5\ 


"  Why,  rat  it  all !"  cried  the  Captain  then 
from  within,  and  it  could  be  heard  that  his 
sweet  humour  was  growing  a  trifle  sour. 
"  You  're  yang,  Mr.  Jarnigan,  or,  upan  my 
saul,  I  should  take  it  ill  of  you!  Why,  you 
yang  pappy,  I  came  down  into  that  room, 
merely  to  show  you  what  a  crew  it  was  you 
had  taken  ap  with.  Bellairs,  whom  all  the 
men  are  running  away  from,  dem  it,  and 
those  two  bullies,  sir,  whom  she  keeps  to 
fight  the  runaways  !  Why,  gad,  if  you  'd  not 
been  so  green  from  the  country,  my  poor 
friend,  you  'd  have  heard  of  that  Staffard 
fallow's  encounter  with  my  Lard  Mandeville. 
And  talking  of  my  Lard  and  his  jilting  of 
poor  Kitty,  he,  he !  brings  me  to  this  Rachel 
Peace  —  and  a  pretty  piece,  he,  he! — a 
basforao-e !  " 

"  What  a  pestilent  tongue  it  has,"  said 
Stafford  without,  and  raised  his  hand  to  beat 
a  warning  rat-tat  on  the  panels.  But  O'Hara 
was  too  well  entertained. 

"  Wait  a  bit,"  he  urged,  "  't  is  as  good  as  a 
play  and  the  lad  's  giving  it  to  him  in  fine 
style  !  " 

And  indeed  there  was  a  shout  from  Julian 
Jernigan. 

"  Silence  !     Liar  !  " 

[221  ] 


j^ilNCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRSi^ 


/iiK 


"  Rachel  Peace !  Rachel  Peace,  you 
booby !  Why  all  the  warld  knows  she 's 
my  Lard  Mandeville's " 

"  Thunder  an'  ouns !  "  exclaimed  O'Hara 
straightening  himself  with  an  irrepressible 
sparkle  in  his  eyes,  "  but  that  was  a  master 
slap! " 

There  was  a  pause  within,  a  breathless 
moment  without.  Then  Captain  Spicer's 
snarl  : 

"  Yah  —  since  you  will  have  it  1  "  followed 
by  the  hiss  of  the  steel  sliding  from  the 
scabbard  like  an  angry  snake. 

"When  a  creature's  pushed  to  it,  he's 
dangerous,"  suddenly  exclaimed  O'Hara  and 
aimed  for  the  door  with  a  sturdy  lurch  of 
his  shoulder,  but  this  time  it  was  Stafford 
who  intervened. 

"  Too  late  now,"  he  said,  "  they  're  at  it. 
If  you  jog  the  drinkers' elbows,  you  may  spill 
the  wrong  cup.  The  lad  needs  all  his  wits 
about  him  —  Spicer  's  a  white-liver,  but  he  's 
an  old  hand." 

"  True,"  said  O'Hara,  and  fell  back. 

Jonas  shifted  piteous  eyes  from  one  to  the 
other.  His  lips  moved  as  if  repeating  to 
himself:   "The  last  of  the  old  stock!" 

It  was  not  to  be  a  long  wait :  even  to  those 

[  222  ] 


^    THE    LITTLE    LOVER   i| 

listeners  in  suspense  without  it  seemed  an 
appallingly  short  one.  There  was  a  stamp 
of  feet  —  and  they  could  distinguish  the 
boy's  clean  spring  backwards  and  forwards, 
Spicer's  slouching  shoe  and  Spicer's  reiter- 
ated cry:  "  Saha !  Sa-sa !  Have  at  you!" 
after  the  fashion  of  the  practised  bully.  But 
from  young  Julian  came  never  a  word. 

Then  the  Captain  raised  a  yell  of  triumph, 
succeeded  by  a  deadly  little  silence,  into 
which  presently  came  the  sound  of  a  heavy 
■fall. 

The  servant  moaned  like  an  old  dog  and 
Stafford  made  a  sign  to  O'Hara.  Before 
their  united  rush  the  door  fell  open,  and  they 
burst,  one  on  the  top  of  the  other,  into  the 
room. 

Spicer,  the  grin  petrified  upon  his  swollen 
mouth,  turned  round  upon  them,  still 
brandishing  a  blood-stained  sword;  but,  as 
all  three  hurried  up  to  the  prostrate  figure 
on  the  floor,  the  gallant  gentleman  saw  his 
opportunity  and  made  good  his  exit  without 
further  ado. 

It  seemed  such  a  very  small  figure,  that  of 
the  valiant  little  lover,  as  it  lay  all  huddled 
together,  that  O'Hara  with  a  break  in  his 
voice  cried  out  to  seize  the  scoundrel  who 

[223  ] 


1^  INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRSl^ 

had  murdered  a  child.  But  Stafford  looking 
up  from  where  he  knelt  and  drawing  out  his 
hand  all  crimsoned  with  good  Jernigan  blood 
from  the  ruffled  shirt  that  had  been  donned 
this  evening  over  so  high  a  heart,  bade  him 
let  the  carrion  go  but  have  a  surgeon  sum- 
moned ;  the  lad  was  not  dead,  but  he  feared 
the  wound  was  in  the  lung. 

■  ••••••• 

Two  anxious  women  were  waiting  in 
the  parlour  for  the  medical  verdict  when 
Stafford  came  in  upon  them,  grave,  yet  not 
with  that  final  gravity  that  leaves  no  room 
for  hope. 

"  If  he  wins  throufjh  the  ni^ht,  the  suro;eon 
thinks  he  may  yet  live,"  said  he. 

Rachel  folded  her  hands  as  if  in  prayer. 
l»ut  Kitty's  face  fell  ;  one  of  those  beings 
made  for  the  sunny  side  of  life,  she  took 
trouble  with  petulance,  struggling  against  it 
as  a  bird   beats  its  wings  in  a  trap. 

"  Why  did  any  of  you  let  a  little  gentleman 
like  him  cross  swords  with  such  a  thing  as 
Spicer  ?  Why  could  n't  you  fight  yourselves, 
cither  of  you  two  big  men,  instead  of  the 
child  ?  Fie  upon  you  !  Or  why  did  he  fight 
at  all,  and  what  did  he  fight  for.?" 

1  he   question   was   emphasised   with   that 

[  ^-u  ] 


§1    THE     LITTLE    LOVER    i| 

stamp   of   her  little   foot  so  familiar   to   the 
devotees  of  Kitty. 

Stafford  hesitated;  he  looked  at   Rachel. 
Then  Rachel  raised  her  lovely  heavy  eyes : 

"  He  fought  for  me,  for  my  good  name," 
said  she.     "  Is  it  not  so? " 

And,  as  Stafford's  silence  answered  for 
him,  she  went  on,  quite  calmly,  though  her 
lips  quivered  in  bitterness :  "  I  had  done  less 
harm,  had  I  remained  where  you  found  me, 
madam.  Oh,  I  am  not  the  less  grateful  to 
you  that  you  tried  to  save  me  !  But  for  such 
as  me,  you  see,  there  is  no  saving.  My  sin 
will  follow  me." 

"  Miss  Rachel,"  said  Stafford,  going  up  to 
her  and  taking  her  hand  —  he  was  a  man 
who  had  the  reputation  of  a  very  cold  heart 
under  his  air  of  gayest  good  humour,  but 
Rachel  Peace  ever  after  bore  his  memory  in 
gratitude  for  his  kind  touch,  his  kind  look  at 
this  moment  of  her  misery.  "  Miss  Rachel 
—  he  is  asking  for  you,  have  you  the 
courage .?  " 

At  that,  she  lifted  her  head : 

"  Oh,  I  should  be  coward,  indeed,  to  think 
of  myself !  "  said  she. 

"A  rare  woman!  I  always  knew  it," 
thought  Stafford. 

15  [  225  ] 


t^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


Rachel  stood  looking  at  Julian  Jernigan's 
colourless  face ;  then,  as  he  opened  his 
languid  eyes,  bent  down  and  took  his  hand. 

"  You  are  not  to  speak,"  she  said,  "  I  am 
here  to  nurse  you,  and  you  will  soon  get 
well ! " 

Jonas,  struggling  with  his  tears  at  the  foot 
of  the  bed,  turned  his  bewildered  old  gaze 
upon  her  as  if  on  the  apparition  of  an  angel. 
And  Julian,  murmuring  something  about 
peace  and  her  being  all  white  like  the  lilies 
and  its  being  a  happy  way  to  die  (which  he 
thought  was  quite  a  long  speech),  turned  his 
head  on  his  pillow  and  went  back  to  that 
place  of  vague  dreams  which  was  half  swoon, 
half  sleep. 

Vastly  insulted  at  the  meresu2:2:estion  that 
she  should  betake  herself  to  bed,  while 
Rachel  watched  the  wounded  champion, 
Mistress  Kitty  elected  to  spend  the  night 
(in  monstrous  discomfort)  on  a  chair  before 
the  fire  in  her  own  apartment. 

Towards  that  bleak  and  most  weary  hour, 
however,  just  before  the  winter  dawn,  she 
allowed  herself  to  be  beo^uiled  downstairs 
mto   Master    Lawrence's    own    cosy    library 

[  226  ] 


^    THE    LITTLE    LOVER    ^^ 

where  he  and  Mr.  O'Hara  had  passed  a  not 
unpleasant  time  between  varied  discourse  and 
a  noble  bowl  of  spiced  wine.  (The  landlord 
of  "  the  Bear  "  had  far  too  exalted  a  concep- 
tion of  his  calling,  to  think  of  slumber  while 
guests  of  qualit}'  watched.) 

"Just  the  least  little  thimbleful  in  the 
world,  Kitty,"  had  whispered  the  insinuating 
Denis  through  the  keyhole  of  her  door, 
"  and  a  toast  of  your  darling  little  feet  at 
the  handsomest  fire   I  've  seen  this  winter ! " 

And  thus  O'Hara's  divinity,  rather  injured, 
very  pettish,  somewhat  pale,  with  a  pretty 
mouth  ever  caught  upon  a  yawn,  had  con- 
sented to  establish  herself  before  Master 
Lawrence's  handsome  fire,  to  stretch  out  her 
darling  little  feet  to  the  blaze,  to  sip  the 
fragrance  of  Mr.  O'Hara's  offering  —  al- 
though with  many  a  little  choking  grimace 
and  protestation.  Master  Lawrence  had 
discreetly  retired  upon  her  arrival. 

"By  the  powers!"  said  O'Hara.  "It's 
not  that  I  'm  not  sorry  for  the  little  fellow 
upstairs,  but  it 's  a  poor  heart  that  never 
rejoices ! " 

But,  alas  for  the  happy  lover !  This  is  a 
poor  world  in  which  a  rich  heart's  rejoicing 
is    never    of    long    duration.     Mr.     O'Hara, 

[227] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


was  not  destined  to  hold  his  gallant  oppor- 
tunity more  than  a  minute's  span. 

Into  the  silence  of  the  night,  there  came  a 
knocking  at  the  street  door,  a  barking  of  dogs, 
a  running  of  feet,  an  excited  parley  ;  and,  be- 
fore either  of  the  two  ensconced  in  their  snug 
retreat  had  time  to  interchange  surprise  and 
conjecture.  Master  Lawrence  hurried  in. 

The  worthy  innkeeper's  face  was  flushed, 
his  manner  important.  He  craved  ten 
thousand  pardons,  but  there  was  a  traveller 
without:  a  srentlcman  .  .  .  a  nobleman. 

He  was  not  permitted  to  finish  his  phrase 
for  here  an  unceremonious  hand  thrust  him 
aside,  and  the  traveller  in  question  stood  in 
the  doorway  ! 

"  So,  Mistress  Bellairs,"  cried  Lord  Mande- 
ville.    "  So,  madam  !     Thus  we  meet  again  !  " 

The  noble  Earl's  address,  however,  was 
scarcely  as  impressive  as  he  could  have 
wished  ;  he  had  ridden  long  and  hard  and  the 
night  was  one  of  exceptional  rigour.  He 
could  hardly  speak  for  his  chattering  teeth  ; 
his  face  was  livid  and  purple  in  patches;  he 
staggered  now  upon  his  numbed  limbs  ;  and, 
a  convulsive  shiver  seizing  him,  he  was  only 
able  further  to  articulate  the  name :  "  Rachel 
Peace !  " 

[  228  ] 


THE     LITTLE     LOVER 


Now  O'Hara  was  a  lover  himself  and  full 
of  the  largest  sympathy  towards  any  suffer- 
ing member  of  the  brotherhood. 

"Whisht!"  said  he  soothingly,  "  not  an- 
other word  out  of  you  now,  till  we  get  the 
life  into  you  again."  He  caught  up  the 
steaming  bowl  of  wine  on  the  table  and  held 
it  boldly  to  the  wayfarer's  frozen  lips. 

"  Drink,  my  boy,"  said  he. 

Though  Lord  Mandeville,  recognising  the 
excellence  of  this  advice,  promptly  disposed 
of  the  whole  brew  at  a  draught,  his  ill-humour 
was  thereby  no  whit  abated.  Setting  the 
empty  vessel  on  the  table  with  a  clatter  he 
looked  once  more  from  Kitty  to  O'Hara  and 
in  his  broodino;  frown  there  was  somethino- 
of  triumphant  fury.  Kitty  pinched  her  baby 
mouth  and  looked  defiance  back  with  right 
good  will.  What?  Had  she  once  admired 
this  man,  had  almost  consented  to  bestow  on 
him  in  marriage  her  incomparable  little  self! 
Heavens,  what  an  escape  she  had  had  .  .  . 
she  who  hated  ugliness  ! 

"Perhaps,"  said  Lord  Mandeville,  "you 
will  kindly  tell  me  what  you  have  done  with 
Miss  Rachel  Peace,  whom  you  carried  off 
from  my  house,  for  reasons  best  known  to 
yourself." 

[229] 


^INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS|i| 

His  face  twisted  into  a  sneer  as  he  spoke ; 
there  was  a  red  glare  in  his  eyes.  Then, 
"  Where  is  Rachel?  "  he  cried  with  a  sudden 
breakdown  of  self-control,  so  that  the  words 
rangr  in  a  hoarse  shout. 

O 

"  The  poor  fellow  's  as  croaky  as  a  crow," 
said  O'Hara  to  himself,  all  compassion. 

"  I  will  trouble  you,  my  Lord,"  said  Mis- 
tress Kitty,  ice  externally,  internally  all  a 
little  fire  of  joy  at  this  opportunity  for  pay- 
ing back  old  scores,  "  to  stop  screaming. 
There  s  someone  dying  upstairs " 

"  Someone  dying!  "  repeated  Lord  Mande- 
ville.  His  tired  face  went  ghastly,  his  jaw 
dropped,  his  eye  protruded,  he  made  a  vague 
movement  with  his  hands. 

"  No,  no,"  cried  O'Hara  in  quick  under- 
standing, "  she 's  well,  my  lord ;  alive  and 
well.  Kitty,  you  've  frightened  him  out  of 
his  wits!  'Tis  but  a  poor  lad  that's  been 
crossing:  swords ' 

Lord  Mandcville  threw  himself  into  a 
chair,  leaned  his  elbows  on  the  table  and 
covered  his  face  with  his  hands. 

"  A  poor  lad  !  A  poor  child,"  echoed  Mis- 
tress Kitty,  taking  up  the  tale,  throwing  each 
word  at  the  silent  man  with  as  deliberate  an 
intention  as  if  she  were  aimins:  little  arrows. 

[230] 


THE     LITTLE    LOVER 


"  A  poor  child,  who  has  shed  his  blood,  my 
lord,  given  his  life  perhaps,  to  defend  the 
fair  name  of  Rachel  Peace  ;  that  fair  name 
which  you  have  now  made  such  that  every 
rufhan  on  the  road  thinks  himself  entitled  to 
cast  his  handful  of  mud  at  it.     Rachel  Peace, 

w 

"  Whom  you  robbed  me  of,"  said  his  lord- 
ship, opening  his  fingers  to  throw  out  from 
between  them  a  red  look  upon  her. 

"  Whom  I  took  pity  on,"  cried  she,  "  whom 
I  gave  shelter  to,  as  I  would  have  sheltered 
a  wounded  dove  —  poor  dove  !  "  said  Kitty, 
waxing  dithyrambic,  "with  white  wings 
broken,  all  maimed  and  hurt!  Ah!  my 
lord,  you  men  have  fine   sport ! " 

"Enough,  madam!  "  said  Lord  Mandeville 
springing  up  with  so  fierce  an  air  that  even 
she  quailed  before  it.  "Where  is  Rachel.? 
I  dare  you  to  keep  her  from  me.  She  's  in 
this  house,  I  know.  I  '11  find  her  if  I  have 
to  break  into  every  room.  Rachel!  Give 
me  back  my  girl  ..." 

And,  seeing  (Denis  afterwards  explained 
to  the  outraged  Kitty)  that,  as  his  lordship 
was  as  blind  drunk  and  mad  drunk  w'ith  love 
as  ever  a  man  could  be,  there  seemed  nothing 
for  it  but  to  humour  him,  Mr.  O'Hara  vol- 

[231  ] 


ii  INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS|i 

unteered  to  conduct  him  to  the  chamber 
where  Mr.  Stafford  was  keeping  a  friendly 
night  watch  near  the  sick-room,  and  thither 
to  lure  Rachel  Peace  for  a  few  moments 
from   Mr.  Jernigan's  bedside. 

As  soon  as  Mistress  Kitty  had  recovered 
from  her  stupefaction  at  Mr.  O'Hara's  audac- 
ity, she  decided  to  follow  the  reprobates 
upstairs,  solely  moved  (as  she  told  herself)  by 
the  benevolent  desire  of  affordinq-  Rachel  the 
protection  of  one  of  her  own  sex  at  such  a 
juncture  —  and  in  no  manner  by  curiosity  or 
any  desire  to  keep  her  pretty  fingers  in  the 
pie. 

When  she  peeped  into  Mr.  Stafford's 
chamber  she  found  it  empty  of  all  save  of 
that  gentleman's  presence.  With  his  head 
tilted  back  on  the  top  of  the  armchair,  an 
open  book  on  his  knee,  a  guttering  candle 
beside  him,  he  was  sound  asleep  ;  little 
gentle  snorts  escaped  rhythmically  from  his 
well-cut  nostrils.  Scarcely  the  situation  in 
which  a  man  of  elegance  would  wish  to  be 
found  by  the  lady  of  his  heart !  Kitty  closed 
the  door  again  and  stood  a  second  in  reflec- 
tion. With  Mr.  Stafford  also  she  had  once 
been  near  (very  near)  matrimony  ! 

Then,  gathering  her  skirts    together  and 

[  232  ] 


^THE     LITTLE     LOVER^ 

tripping  it  as  softly  as  her  high  heels  would 
allow  she  turned  the  corner  of  the  passage 
towards  the  beckoning  of  a  lamp.  Then 
she  started  back  and  held  her  breath ;  she 
had  only  just  escaped  falling  into  Lord 
Mandeville's  arms. 

At  the  same  moment  a  door  a  little  lower 
down  in  the  long  gallery  was  opened  and 
Rachel  Peace  came  forth.  Unseen,  Kitty 
watched. 

Lord  Mandeville  with  a  sound  as  if  some- 
thing clicked  in  his  throat,  made  a  quick 
step   towards   the  girl. 

"  O  hush  !  "  said  Rachel  glancing  over  her 
shoulder,  as  O'Hara  now  came  forth  in  his 
turn  and  closed  the  sick-room  door  be- 
hind him.  "  Hush  !  "  said  she,  "  he  is  awake." 
Her  thoughts   were  all   for  the  boy. 

"  Rachel ! "  said  Lord  Mandeville  in  a 
queer  angry,  choked  voice. 

She  drew  close  to  him  that  she  might  bear 
him  away  to  silence,  and  he  caught  her  into 
his  arms.  Then  she  seemed  to  realise  what 
his  presence  meant  and  cried:  "  Oh,  why  are 
you  here!"  with  a  wail  under  her  breath. 
And  Kitty  heard  with  a  strange  mixture  of 
feelings  the  deep  tender  note  in  Lord  Man- 
deville's voice  as  he  answered : 

[  ^33  ] 


g^  INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS?^ 

"  Because  I  cannot  live  without  you 
Rachel   .   .   .   Rachel !  " 

But  Rachel  had  disengaged  herself;  the 
man  could  no  more  have  held  her  just  then 
than  he  could  have  held  running  waters. 

"  I  must  go  back  to  the  boy,"  she  said. 
This  great,  passionate  lover  who  had  wrought 
such  havoc  in  her  life,  he  was  to  step  back 
now  and  yield  place  to  the  all  paramount 
little  lover  who  2:ave  all  and  wanted  nothing. 
"  I  have  just  a  faint  hope."  She  moved  a 
pace  or  two  and  stood  between  the  two  men. 

"  Indeed,  my  lord,"  said  O'Hara,  "  I  think 
you  must  be  content  to  let  her  go  back  to 
him,  for  faith  I  believe  her  presence  alone 
keeps   Death   at  bay." 

And  Kitt}',  watching,  guessed  how  Lord 
Mandeville's  heart  was  torn  by  jealous  pangs. 
She  had  caused  many  passions,  or  so  she 
flattered  herself,  but  she  had  never  seen  any- 
thing like  this ! 

But  Rachel  still  paused  and  hesitated; 
then  with  the  corners  of  her  sweet  mouth 
trembling  downwards,  like  a  chidden  child's, 
she  said  gently: 

"  He  fought  for  me,  poor  little  lad.  Oh, 
gentlemen,  you  both  know  why !  He  must 
n^'t "  she  paused,  her  lips  quivered  piti- 

[  234] 


^    THE    LITTLE    LOVER    M 

fully  and  the  words  seemed  hard  to  speak. 
"  It  would  be  very  kind,"  she  said,  "  if  every 
one  would  allow  him  to  believe  —  would  let 
him  die,  if  he  is  to  die,  believing  in  me  —  or 
would  wait  till  he  gets  well  before  telling 
him  —  the  truth." 

Her  voice  sank  into  a  whisper.  O'Hara 
turned  abruptly  away.  But  Lord  Mandeville 
fell  upon  his  knees  before  her  in  the  passage 
and  buried  his  face  in  her  grey  skirt. 

"  No,  no,"  said  Rachel  Peace.  She  was 
sitting  beside  Julian  Jernigan's  bed  and  held 
his  cold  hand  in  both  hers.  "  No,  you  are 
not  going  to  die.  The  surgeon  is  quite  con- 
tent with  you  this  morning.  You  are  going 
to  live."  She  was  smiling  at  him  and  he 
smiled  back  at  her. 

"  I  don't  think  I  care,"  said  he.  He  was 
unutterably  happy  with  both  those  lovely 
hands  seeming  to  uphold  his  heart.  Then, 
with  the  quick  senses  of  the  wanderer  in 
the  borderland,  he  became  aware  of  other 
presences  in  the  room.  The  merry  gentle- 
man with  the  twinkling  eyes,  and  a  stranger 
to  whom  Rachel  Peace  suddenly  looked  up 
—  as  he  closely  saw  and  more  closely  felt  — 
with  some  strongly  stirring  emotion. 


?§i  INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^ 

Lord  Mandeville  gazed  down  at  Rachel's 
champion,  his  mouth  twisted  into  something 
between  a  smile  and  a  spasm  of  pain.  He 
had  actually  been  jealous  in  his  jealous  heart, 
had  grudged  her  with  doubt  and  suspicion, 
to  this  boy  with  the  dank  yellow  curls  and 
the  white  child's  face  !  And,  as  Rachel  Peace 
still  looked  up,  her  soft  eyes  full  of  wonder, 
and  fear  and  expectation,  Lord  Mandeville, 
bending,  took  Mr.  Julian  Jernigan's  hands 
from  her  clasp.  He  had  a  very  noble  manner 
when  he  chose  —  and,  perhaps,  under  all  his 
wild  passions  he  had  something  of  a  noble 
soul. 

"  Mr.  Jernigan,"  said  he,  "  I  will  not  say  to 
you  that  I  am  sorry  to  see  you  in  such  a 
plight,  for  indeed,  sir,  I  envy  you  !  I  have 
heard  of  your  defence  of  this  gentle  lady. 
No  man,  sir,  could  shed  his  blood  in  a 
worthier  cause.  I  am  proud  to  make  your 
acquaintance,  Mr.  Jernigan.  And  I  thank 
you,  in  my  own  name,  and  that  of  my 
affianced    wife." 

How  much  Mr.  Jernigan  understood  of 
this  speech,  how  much  he  only  felt,  it  were 
hard  to  say.  His  breast  swelled  with  a  irreat 
pride,  with  a  great  pain  and  a  very  high  and 
grand    joy.     And    everything    swam    before 


^i    THE    LITTLE    LOVER 


him  until  suddenly  he  was  called  back  again 
to  the  inn-bed,  to  his  wound  and  to  life  gen- 
erally, by  Rachel's  voice  in  his  ears,  and 
Rachel's  tears  upon  his  cheek  —  aye  and 
by  something  else,  the  touch  of  Rachel's 
lips  upon  his  brow! 

And,  "Oh,  I  thank  you  too!"  she  was 
saying,  "  from  my  heart   I  thank  you  ! " 

"  If  you  cast  me  off,"  said  Lord  Mandeville, 
as  they  two  were  alone  at  last  and  he  held 
Rachel  Peace  to  his  heart,  "if  you  cast  me 
off,  Rachel,  then   I  am    lost  indeed." 

"I  —  cast  thee  off!"  murmured  Rachel, 
"Ah  Lionel — thee  knows.  .  .  !" 

He  looked  deep,  deep  into  her  eyes  and 
read,  beyond  their  joy  and  hopefulness,  the 
shadow  of  an  inextinguishable  sorrow.  Her 
lips  would  never  utter  reproach.  In  her 
meek  and  generous  soul,  indeed,  no  blame  of 
him  could  live ;  but  all  the  keener  did  it  stab 
him,  this  sorrow  in  her  eyes  which  he  knew 
would  be  ever  there.  With  what  a  delicate 
pride  would  she  not  have  held  her  head  for 
his  coronet  —  a  little  while  ago  1  How  bridal 
a  heart  she  would  have  brought  him  —  a 
little  wliile  ago!      His  poor  girl! 

•  ••••  ••• 

[237  ] 


i^  INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS^ 

"Kitty,  darling,"  said  O'Hara  tentatively, 
"  there  s  love  and  marriacfe  in  the  air  this 
morning  —  don't  you  feel  it?" 

But  Mistress  Bellairs  was  in  an  unap- 
proachable and  petulant  mood.  She  whisked 
her  hand  away  from  his  grasp. 

"  Bah  !  "  said  she,  "  there  's  not  one  of  you 
creatures  that  come  dangling  about  me,  that 
knows  even  the  meaning  of  the  word  Love, 
sir.  Love!"  said  she.  "Ah,  I  have  seen  it 
at  last ! " 


[238] 


VI 


ARELY  had  Master  Thomas  Law- 
rence, the  landlord  of  "  the  Bear  " 
Inn,  Devizes,  had  the  privilege  of 
entertaining  so  many  guests  of 
quality  together  for  so  long  a  period.  There 
was  my  lord,  Earl  Mandeville  —  most  cele- 
brated peer!  —  who  actually  honoured  "the 
Devizes  "  by  electing  to  contract  there  that 
marriage  which  was  the  amazement  of  the 
year.  There  was  Mistress  Kitty  Bellairs, 
whose  name  was  famous  from  one  end  of 
the  Bath  road  to  the  other  ;  and  with  her, 
her  young  friend,  once  celebrated  as  Rachel 
Peace,  the  play-actress,  now  spoken  of  with 
bated  breath  as:  My  Lady,  Countess  of 
Mandeville.     And  further  in  the  Queen  of 

[  239  ] 


i^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRSi^ 

Bath's  train  were  two  of  her  courtiers  — 
Mr.  Stafford,  a  spark  as  fashionable  in  Lon- 
don as  at  the  Springs,  and  the  Hon.  Denis 
O'Hara  (son  of  Viscount  Kilcroney),  a  very 
irenial  srentleman  likewise,  but  one  whose 
distinguished  name  Master  Lawrence  rang 
oftener  than  his  gold.  Then  there  was  Mr. 
Julian  Jernigan,  of  Costessy,  a  young  squire 
of  consequence  in  the  East  Country  (who 
had  lain  grievously  wounded  after  his  affair 
of  delicacy  under  the  roof  of  "the  Bear" 
itself),  and  the  uncle  of  the  same,  my  Lord 
Howard,  who,  from  Bath,  where  he  had  been 
drinking  the  waters,  had  come  in  haste  to 
nurse  his  kinsman. 

But  the  life  of  an  inn  might  serve  a  par- 
able for  life  itself.  Here,  for  these  ten  days, 
had  this  choice  company  met  and  feasted 
and  made  merry,  suffered  and  watched 
and  prayed;  here  had  Death  threatened  and 
Love  vanquished ;  here  had  been  tears  and 
laughter  and  kisses.  And  now,  nearly  all 
had  gone  their  divers  roads,  and  their  place 
would  be  filled  by  others  and  the  old  story 
go  on  in  the  old  way. 

"  Here  to-day,  gone  to-morrow !  "  moralised 
Master  Lawrence,  as  he  sat  in  the  silence 
of  his  "  library,"  puffing  at  a  contemplative 

[  240] 


^THE    BLACK    LACE    M  A  S  K  ^ 

churchwarden.  And,  truly  Master  Lawrence 
himself  felt  the  stillness  oppressive.  But 
upstairs  in  the  best  parlour  the  atmosphere 
could  not  have  been  described  as  stagnant. 

Mistress  Kitty,  ensconced  in  the  window- 
seat  looking  out  on  the  slush  and  drizzle 
of  the  market  place,  was  biting  the  string  of 
gold  beads  that  hung  round  her  neck,  and 
swinging  —  the  seat' was  rather  high  —  one 
dainty  foot  impatiently  among  the  billows  of 
her  silken  skirts. 

Denis  O'Hara,  faithful  adorer,  thought 
he  had  never  seen  her  look  to  more  distract- 
ing advantage.  She  was  of  the  type  which 
a  pout  becomes.  Her  eyes  showed  dark  as 
night,  yet  bright  with  a  thousand  angry  little 
fires,  under  the  white  cloud  of  powdered 
curls. 

"  And  so,"  said  the  lady,  "  Mr.  Stafford 
could  not  bide  another  day  apart  from 
Madame  Eglantine  —  from  that  Uttle  French 
magpie  of  a  milliner,  even  for  the  sake  of 
courtesy  to  a  lady  !  " 

With  some  humility,  as  if  he  were  part 
guilty;  though  guilty,  in  sooth,  of  nothing 
but  joy  at  a  situation  which  left  him  undis- 
puted chance,  Denis  O'Hara  loyally  re- 
sponded: 

16  [  241  ] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^ 


"Sure  the  poor  fellow  was  called  off  on  a 
matter  of  law." 

"  Law  !"  echoed  Kitty  with  a  scornful  little 
shriek,  "'tis  the  last  thing  that  his  affair  is 
concerned  with  ;  though,  indeed" — dropping 
her  gold  beads  and  rearing  her  figure  to 
angry  crectness  —  "  mark  my  words,  he  '11  end 
by  marrying  the  creature,  even  as  my  Lord 
Mandeville,  Rachel  Peace,  the  play-actress." 

"  Faith,  and  I  know  some  one  whose  pretty 
little  fingers  helped  to  put  on  that  ring,"  said 
the  Irishman,  coming  a  few  paces  nearer  and 
speaking  in  a  tone  of  delicate  wheedling. 

"  And  much  gratitude  I  am  like  to  get  for 
it ! "  This,  with  a  toss  of  the  powdered 
curls.  "  Little  will  my  Lady  Mandeville 
think  of  what  she  owes  to  humble  Mistress 
Bcllairs,  when  she  takes  the  pas  of  her 
wherever  she  goes  !  " 

"Why,"  said  Denis,  "you'd  be  taking  the 
pas  of  most  of  them  in  Bath,  yourself,  Kitty 
darling,  if  you  'd  only  consent  to  become  my 
Viscountess," 

"  Your  Viscountess,  sir.''  " 

"  The  poor  old  gentleman  's  very  bad,  over 
there  in  County  Derry.  And,  they  write  me, 
the  cellar 's  getting  very  low ;  the  Burgundy's 
nil    done — it's     my    opinion,    and    medical 

[  242  ] 


^THE    BLACK    LACE   M  A  S  K  p 

opinion    too,    that   he  '11    go   out    with    the 
claret ! " 

"La!  'Tis  vastly  pathetic,"  quoth  Kitty, 
and  edged  a  trifle  further  away  upon  the 
window-seat  to  correspond  to  Mr.  O'Hara's 
ingratiating  approach. 

"Well  and  it  is  that,  Kitty,"  said  the  latter 
sturdily.  "  Sure,  he  's  the  grand  old  fellow 
still,  and  there's  not  one  in  the  county  can 
hold  as  many  bottles  as  he  can  and  turn  it 
all  into  the  real  old  generous  Irish  blood. 
I  believe  he  '11  have  mortgaged  the  very 
oak  for  his  coffin  !  But  he  shared  it  all, 
Kitty,  he  shared  it  all,  and  will,  till  he  lies 
alone." 

"  Prodigious  pleasant  for  you  !  " 

"Ah,  it's  little  I  care  for  the  paltry 
mone3\  There's  that  in  the  old  name,  Kitty, 
that  riches  could  never  buy.  And  it  '11  come 
to  me  with  the  shine  on  it." 

"I  trust  you  will  find  the  shine  sufficient 
satisfaction,  sir,  to  make  up  for  an  empty 
pocket." 

"  Would  n't  I,"  cried  the  man,  "  if  I  could 
but  share  it  with  you,  pulse  of    my  soul ! " 

He  stretched  out  his  arm  to  clasp  her  as 
he  spoke,  but  drew  it  back  before  the  cold 
refusal  of  her  eyes. 

[^43] 


^INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS^I 

"  La,  sir,  you  do  me  proud,  indeed  !  Sharer 
of  your  empty  pocket?  " 

"No,  madam  —  no,  my  darling,  sharer  of 
the  good  name  and  sole  possessor  of  my 
great  love  !  " 

"What  is  this,  Mr.  O'Hara?" 

"  It's  just  this,  Kitty;  things  cannot  go  on 
between  us  as  they  've  been  going  this  last 
year.  Here,  to  this  very  inn,  a  year  ago,  I 
brought  you  as  my  promised  wife,  and  here 
you  broke  my  heart  on  me  by  throwing  me 
over  at  the  last  moment.  And  here  you  told 
me  you  'd  mend  it  again  for  me.  And  what 
have  you  been  doing  ever  since,  Kitty  .f* 
Playing  cup  and  ball  with  it,  God  forgive 
me  for  saying  so,  as  cruelly  as  a  cat  with  a 
mouse.  Good  God,  woman,  it 's  fiesh  and 
blood  you've  got  here  —  this  is  a  man,  Kitty 
—  and,  by  the  Lord,  he  's  endured  more  than 
human  nature  can !  I  am  at  the  end  of  my 
tether." 

"  Pray,  sir,"  said  Kitty,  "  not  so  loud  !  I 
have  a  delicate  tympanum,"  She  raised  her 
hands  to  her  ears.  "  I  am  willing  to  take 
you  at  your  word.  You  're  a  man,  if  you 
please;  though,  really,  with  so  much  braying, 
and  these  complaints  about  your  tether,  one 
should  have  been  inclined  to  think " 

[244] 


iTHE    BLACK    LACE    M  A  S  K  t^ 


>w; 


"  O  Kitty  !  "  said  he. 

Her  ears  were  not  so  much  covered  up 
but  that  she  could  hear  very  well.  Her 
faithful  lover's  sudden  inconvenient  outbreak 
of  passion,  his  tragic  tone  of  reproach,  were 
just  the  last  drops  in  Mistress  Kitty's  cup 
of  exasperation.  She  rose  from  her  seat  and 
flounced  into  the  centre  of  the  room. 

"  I  vow,"  she  cried,  "  you  are  perfectly  in- 
supportable to-day!  Am  I  not  to  have  a 
minute's  rest  from  this  eternal  persecution  ? 
La  !  when  I  saw  those  creatures  depart  this 
morninor  I  thou2:ht  I  'd  be  free  of  billing^  and 
cooing  for  the  rest  of  my  stay." 

"And  I,"  said  O'Hara,  with  the  same  un- 
wonted earnestness  and  agitation  which  were 
so  provoking  to  Mistress  Bellairs,  "  when  I 
saw  the  look  on  the  faces  of  those  two,  as 
they  drove  off  together,  man  and  wife  ;  when 
I  saw  the  light  in  that  fellow  Stafford's  eye, 
as  he  set  the  nose  of  his  nag  for  Bath  ;  aye, 
Kitty,  when  I  saw  that  poor  lad,  Jernigan, 
go  forth,  solitary,  if  you  will,  but  boy  as  he 
was,  possessing  himself  and  his  dignity,  and 
felt  my  own  self  left  behind,  a  mere  wretched 
hanger-on  —  your  dog,  to  be  flung  a  bone 
to,  patted  on  the  head,  or  kicked  out  of  the 
way  —  the  wretched  bird  at  the  end  of  a 
string "  [245] 


IgnNCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


"  Mercy  !  "  interrupted  the  lady,  with  an 
acid  titter,  "  quite  a  menagerie,  in  fact,  to 
want  to  call  itself  a  man!" 

O'Hara  fell  silent  and  measured  her  with 
a  brooding  eye. 

"  Well,  sir  ?  "  she  snapped,  when  the  pause 
became  oppressive. 

"  Well,"  answered  he,  "  let  us  have  an 
end  of  it,  my  dear." 

"  Oh,  by  all  means,"  quoth  she,  all  perver- 
sity:  "'tis  what  I've  been  longing  for  this 
weary  hour ! " 

"  It  comes  to  this,"  he  said.  He  drew 
close  to  her  and  took  one  of  her  unwilling 
little  hands  in  his.  This  new  dominating 
manner  was  as  unexpected  as  this  new  tone. 
Actually — yes,  there  could  be  no  doubt  of 
it  —  he  was  speaking  in  hardness,  not  to 
say  in  harshness: 

"  You  must  take  me  or  leave  me.  It  must 
be  all  or  nothing !  " 

"Oh,  indeed!"  she  said,  again  trying  to 
titter.  "  A  pistol  to  my  forehead,  sir.^  Your 
money  or  your  life!  Or  rather  — "  taking 
herself  up  with  an  acute  crow  of  anger, 
"  't  is  your  money  and  your  life  1  That 's 
what  it  amounts  to.  And  what's  the  dread- 
ful alternative  ?  " 

[246] 


THE    BLACK    LACE    MASK 


He  dropped  her  hand.  Again  there  was 
silence;  she  did  not  allow  it  to  stretch  out 
very  long. 

"  What  are  you  waiting  for }  "  said  she ; 
"  what  keeps  you  ?  " 

"  Looking  my  last  on  you,"  said  he. 

She  laughed  with  all  her  dimples  and  all 
her  cruel  little  white  teeth,  with  all  the 
mockery  of  her  brown,  pansy  eyes.  What 
absurd  comedy  was  this.?  How  likely,  in- 
deed, that  Denis  should  voluntarily  place 
a  span  between  himself  and  his  beatific 
vision ! 

But  Mr.  O'Hara  made  a  grand  bow  and 
turned  towards  the  door. 

"  Pray,  sir,"  cried  Kitty  after  him,  "  will 
Lord  Kilcroney's  generous  blood  enable  you 
to  depart  from  'the  Bear'  without  causing 
Master  Lawrence  too  many  tears?  That 
empty  pocket  you  are  so  unselfishly  desirous 
to  share  with  me  might " 

Denis  wheeled  upon  her;  and,  at  sight 
of  his  face,  she  was  positively  afraid  to  say 
another  word.  He  had  grown  white  to  the 
lips,  and  his  eyes  showed  queer  and  dark. 
She  had  seen  him  wear  that  look  once  before 
when  she  had  hurt  him  to  the  marrow.  A 
second    she    hesitated  —  but    again    quickly 

[247  ] 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS 


drew  back.  After  all,  nothing  was  ever  likely 
to  make  any  permanent  difference  to  that 
devotion  ;  and  it  was  so  pleasant  to  her  upon 
its  present  footing  that  she  had  no  desire  to 
see  it  altered. 

But  then  to  her  amazement  the  door 
closed  between  them. 

"  Bah  !  What  fanfaronade  !  "  quoth  she, 
and  went  back  to  the  window-seat. 

"  Master  Lawrence,"  said  Mr.  O'Hara, 
"kindly  order  the  saddle  on  Blue  Devil.  I 
am  for  the  road." 

Master  Lawrence  stared  stupidly  from 
O'Hara's  unwontedly  grave  countenance  to 
the  valise  which  Boots  was  just  depositing 
on  a  bench. 

"  For  the  road  ?  "  he  repeated.  "  But  .  .  . 
Mistress  Bcllairs  ?  " 

"  I  ride  alone." 

"  Alone  !  "      This  was  stransfe. 

O 

"  I  'm  leaving  the  rest  of  my  luggage  in 
your  charge  for  the  nonce.  And  I'm  in  a 
hurry,  landlord.      My  bill." 

Mr.  O'Hara  calling  for  his  bill !  This  was 
strangest  of  all.  So  unnatural  indeed,  that 
the  host  began  to  disclaim:  Surely  there 
was  no  hurry  for  that ! 

[248] 


P^THE    BLACK    LACE    MASKM 

"  Every  hurry,  friend."  And  there  was 
something  so  decided  in  Mr.  O'Hara's  tone, 
so  dignified  in  his  air,  that  Master  Law- 
rence, without  venturing  upon  another  word, 
hastened  to  give  the  order  to  one  of  liis 
daughters,  whose  fingers  were  as  clever  at 
totting  up  an  elegant  reckoning  as  they  were 
in  drawing  sweet  sounds  from  the  spinet. 

He  presently  laid  the  document  before  his 
guest,  as  that  gentleman  sat  astride  a  chair, 
moodily  fixing  the  great  fire  in  the  hall. 
The  total  made  so  goodly  a  show  to  his  pro- 
prietary eye  that  Master  Lawrence  antici- 
pated, with  some  flurry  of  mind,  the  usual 
end  of  a  practical  joke.  Mr.  O'Hara,  how- 
ever, after  a  startled  glance  and  a  rapid 
mental  calculation,  produced  his  purse  with 
the  same  abnormal  dignity  and  gloom,  and 
counted  out  a  tale  which  left  him  but  two 
guineas  to  rub  against  each  other. 

Touched  in  a  landlord's  tenderest  feelings, 
moved  to  pity  over  his  erstwhile  jovial  client's 
unwonted  melancholy,  and  also  not  without 
that  sensation  of  discomfort  which  an  un- 
wholesomely  virtuous  act  awakes  in  its 
object.   Master  Lawrence  exclaimed : 

"  I  am  sorry,  Mr.  O'Hara,  sir,  to  see  you 
in  such  low  spirits  !  " 

[  ^49  ] 


j^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^ 


O'Hara's  only  answer  was  a  lugubrious 
sigh. 

"  Why  then,"  said  the  landlord,  "  here 
comes  the  stirrup-cup;  it  has  been  mixed 
by  Mrs.  Lawrence." 

"  Drink  it  yourself,  to  our  next  meeting, 
our  next  merry  meeting,  ha,  ha  !"  cried  Denis. 

His  laugh  echoed  cavernously  as  he  dashed 
out  of  the  hall. 

■  ••■•  ••• 

The  little  angry  human  bird,  that  was 
Mistress  Kitty,  perched  on  the  window-seat, 
swelling  with  displeasure  against  an  un- 
appreciative  world,  beheld,  with  an  inner 
sinking  of  the  heart  and  a  recrudescence  of 
outer  disdain,  Mr.  O'Hara's  horse  led  forth 
beneath  her  windows. 

"  'Pon  honour,  he  believes  that  he  can 
frighten  me!"  thought  she,  and  vowed  to 
blow  him  the  most  indifferent  farewell  kiss 
when,  reckoning  upon  his  recall,  he  should 
presently  look  up  at  her  window. 

Mr.  O'Hara's  valise  was  strapped  to  the 
saddle.  Kitty  flattered  herself  she  laughed, 
and  was  quite  unaware  that  her  pretty  lips 
were  quivering  downwards  over  a  sob. 

Out  came  Denis,  booted  to  the  knee, 
coated  to  the  ears,  his  hat  pulled  down  over 

[250] 


^THE    BLACK    LACE    MASK^ 

his  brow  —  a  gloomy  figure  in  the  gloomy 
weather.  Up  on  the  impatient  horse  he 
sprang;  he  gathered  his  reins;  Blue  Devil 
struck  out  his  heels;  the  ostlers  fell  back. 
Bare-headed  into  the  drizzle  now  ran  Master 
Lawrence  himself,  bowing  to  the  earth  —  so 
bowed  he  only  to  the  guests  who  had  settled 
their  shot.  Denis  O'Hara  and  a  paid  bill ! 
And  Mistress  Kitty  had  told  herself  that 
without  her  aid  the  spendthrift  youth  could 
never  escape  from  the  clutches  of  "  the  Bear! " 

She  held  her  breath  and  bit  her  lip  as  she 
bent  eagerly  forward.  Surely  he  would  look 
up,  surely  she  would  yet  catch  his  eye  !  But 
Denis  seemed  to  be  unaware  of  her  window. 
Reining  in  the  impetuous  Blue  Devil  with  one 
hand,  he  held  aloft  with  the  finger  and  thumb 
of  the  other  a  couple  of  shining  guineas. 
With  no  more  palpitating  anxiety  than  her- 
self did  the  two  ostlers  gaze  upon  them. 

Then  with  a  laugh  that  rang  up  to  her, 
and  a  sort  of  diabolic  recklessness,  Mr. 
O'Hara  sent  first  one  coin  then  the  other 
spinning  high  in  the  air  to  fall  between  the 
two  stable-boys.  .  .  .  And  Kitty  knew  they 
were  his  last  pieces.  Another  moment,  at 
a  high  splashing  trot,  he  was  gone.  Kitty 
burst  into  tears. 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


The  rain  had  ceased ;  but  from  half- 
melted  snow  and  soaking  hedgerow  rose 
steaming  swathes  of  white  mist,  behind  which 
the  December  sun  was  sinking  in  sullen  red. 
Leafless  shapes  of  trees  like  distorted  arms 
upreared  themselves,  black  here  and  there 
against  this  menacing  sky,  above  the  shroud- 
ing vapours.  No  sound  there  was  save  the 
drip,  drip  from  the  streaming  bough  or 
the  sudden  gurgling  collapse  of  ice  across 
the  melting  rut.  A  sodden  world,  a  world 
enveloped  in  melancholy,  meet  prospect  for 
a  man  to  look  upon  who  had  settled  with 
himself  to  have  done  with  life  ;  to  have  done 
with  it  w^ith  a  vengeance  on  his  neighbour 
and  a  challenge  to  the  devil. 

Denis  O'Hara  sat  upon  his  horse  in  the 
middle  of  the  cross-roads  at  Kennet  Hill ; 
the  ground  beneath  him  rose  to  a  gentle 
eminence  and  on  every  side  the  sad  land  fell 
away,  veiled  as  into  some  dream  of  limbo. 
A  little  in  rear  on  the  right,  at  the  topmost 
point  of  the  downs  and  visible  from  afar  — 
warning  much  needed,  little  heeded  —  rose, 
against  the  lurid  afterglow  of  the  sky,  the 
gibbet  of  Alingdown,  as  usual  supplied 
with  a  tolerably  recent   burden,  tarred   and 

[252  ] 


THE    BLACK    LACE    MASK 


chained.  The  horseman  disdainfully  kept 
his  back  to  it.  His  coat  was  turned  inside 
out  and  showed  an  evil-looking  yellow  cloth 
surface,  unlike,  indeed,  to  the  garment  of  a 
gentleman  of  such  gay  habit.  Under  his  hat, 
the  cock  of  which  had  been  altered,  a  stolen 
lace  veil,  folded  into  treble  thickness  and 
pierced  with  two  jagged  holes,  formed  an 
impromptu  mask. 

It  was  throuorh  this  ominous  addition  to 
his  toilet  that  Mr.  O'Hara  looked  out  upon 
the  coming  night;  and  at  every  breath  he 
inhaled,  with  acrid  self-torture,  violet  memo- 
ries of  Kitty's  scented  presence.  And,  as 
he  waited,  brooding  upon  fate,  there  rose  in 
the  dull  stillness  the  piercing  sweet  note  of 
a  little  insistent  robin,  which  seemed  to 
mingle  with  the  flower  hauntings  and  set  a 
final  seal,  with  their  unconscious  cruelty, 
their  tales  of  past  spring  joy,  upon  the  lover's 
bitterness  of  heart. 

From  the  far  distance  presently  came  an 
intermittent  rumble,  hardly  perceptible  to  the 
ear.  Now  the  rumble,  growing  continuous, 
waxed  louder,  and  the  sounds  separated  into 
distinctiveness  —  the  clapper  of  hoofs  in  the 
slush,  the  roll  of  wheels  on  an  indifferently 
metalled  road,  punctuated  anon  by  crack  of 

[  ^53  1 


I§l  INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRSM 

whip,  and  anon  by  creak  of  harness,  anon 
again  by  snorting  breath  of  distressed  horse- 
flesh. 

Mr.  O'Hara's  attention  was  aroused.  He 
smiled  grimly;  drew  Blue  Devil,  whose  vain- 
glorious spirit  seemed  now  to  have  given 
place  to  a  most  intelligent  docility,  into  the 
shelter  of  the  hedge ;  pulled  out  his  pistol 
and  examined  it  in  the  half  lis^ht.  Some- 
thing  of  the  old  gleam  had  leaped  into  his 
eye — a  moment  of  reckless  audacity  could 
not  but  hold  zest. 

It  was  a  heavy  chaise.  Its  lanterns,  already 
lit,  bobbed  yellow  from  afar.  At  the  foot  of 
the  hill  the  horses  fell  to  walking  pace:  a 
fat  pair,  too  well  nurtured  and  too  little 
exercised  to  take  kindly  to  journeying  work. 
O'Hara  could  hear  them  labour  as  they 
advanced,  steam  encircled.  When  the  sIuq:- 
gish  roadsters  halted  at  the  top  of  the  hill 
and,  snorting,  craned  their  necks,  this  seemed 
to  the  diletta7ite  highwayman  the  correct 
dramatic  cue  for  action;  the  right  moment 
to  send  Blue  Devil  leaping  out  of  ambush 
and,  wrenching  him  back  on  his  haunches 
within  a  yard  of  the  box,  to  pop  out  his 
barker  and   cry:   "Halt!"    in   the   best   ap- 

[  ^-54  ] 


ilTHE    BLACK    LACE    MASKi^ 

proved  style  of  "the  High  Toby."  Although 
—  the  cattle  being  already  at  a  standstill  — 
the  adjuration  was  purely  symbolical. 

The  fat  servant  in  black  livery  who  sat 
beside  the  fat  coachman  gave  a  lamentable 
howl  and  hoisted  up  the  blunderbuss  he  held 
between  his  knees. 

O'Hara  wheeled  Blue  Devil  upon  his  hind 
legs,  described  a  semi-circle  round  the  chaise 
to  repeat  the  performance  for  the  benefit  of 
the  coachman. 

Here  the  blunderbuss  went  off  skywards; 
and,  responding  to  the  intention,  Mr.  O'Hara 
(mercifully  wide  of  the  human  mark)  fired 
his  first  pistol  and  extinguished  the  off  lamp. 
But  if  the  shot  had  landed  in  his  well- 
cushioned  ribs,  he  of  the  blunderbuss  could 
hardly  have  raised  a  finer  shriek ;  though  the 
agility  with  which  he  flung  himself  off  the 
box  and  started  running  back  in  the  direction 
of  London,  spoke  volumes  for  his  soundness 
of  wind  and  limb. 

The  coachman  sat  as  if  paralysed,  and  the 
fat  horses  turned  their  heads  to  stare  in  mild 
surprise. 

Between  his  knees  O'Hara  felt  every  fibre 
of  Blue  Devil  dance  with  excitement  and  his 
own  heart  leaped  in  wild  exhilaration.     His 

[  "SS  ] 


^3?INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS^ 

only  regret  was  that  things  should  seem  to 
come  off  so  tamely.  And  this  was  intensi- 
fied when  the  carriage  window  was  put  down 
and  a  voice  inquired  the  meaning  of  the  dis- 
turbance in  tones  which,  although  ringing 
in  manly  sonority,  expressed,  like  the  horses, 
nothing  more  than  a  gently  scandalised 
amazement. 

O'Hara  dismounted,  slung  the  reins  over 
his  arm,  wrenched  the  remaining  lamp  from 
its  socket  and  held  it  out  to  examine  his  cap- 
ture. Then  he  broke  into  a  loud  laugh. — 
By  the  Powers  ...  no  less  a  person  than 
his  right  reverend  lordship,  the  Bishop  of 
Bath  and  Wells! 

Now  this  celebrated  divine  belonQ:ed  dis- 
tmctly  to  the  Church  Militant  and  had,  as 
we  know,  actually  a  reputation  for  muscular 
as  well  as  spiritual  power.  Mr.  O'Hara  put 
the  lantern  between  his  feet,  not  only  for 
the  better  enjoyment  of  the  humorous  situ- 
ation, but  to  have  some  freedom  of  action  in 
case  further  persuasion  should  be  required. 

But  the  high  Roman  nose  and  the  protu- 
berant eye  of  Dr.  Thurlow  shone  in  the 
flickering  yellow  light,  it  seemed,  without 
emotion  of  any  kind. 

Mr.  O'Hara  raised  his  hat  with  a  flourish. 

[256] 


THE    BLACK    LACE    MASK 


"  Little  thought  I,"  he  cried,  speaking  with 
as  clipping  an  accent  as  he  could  assume, 
"that  it  was  your  lordship's  coach  I  was 
calling  halt  to.  But  I  do  not  regret  it.  I 
would  carry  out  my  professional  duties  as 
peacefully  as  you  would  yours,  my  lord,  did 
circumstances  always  permit  it.  It  is  never 
my  fault  if  there  is  strife  upon  the  road!  But 
the  laity,  as  you  know,  is  often  so  unreason- 
able. To  the  point :  a  shepherd  of  souls,  sir, 
such  as  you,  holds  the  treasures  of  the  Church 
but  in  trust  for  the  needy.  I  will  relieve  your 
lordship  of  any  anxiety  as  to  the  proper  be- 
stowal of  his  funds  for  a  while  to  come." 

He  made  every  effort  as  he  spoke  to  keep 
his  speech  within  the  limits  of  the  finest 
English  sarcasm,  but  was  conscious  of  the 
escape  here  and  there  of  a  rich  Milesian 
intonation. 

"  Truly,  my  man,"  said  the  Bishop,  who 
had  quietly  waited  for  the  end  of  this  dis- 
course, "  you  seem  to  have  a  specious  tongue 
—  but  I  think  you  are  here  advancing 
a  proposition  which  is  at  least  open  to 
discussion." 

"  Oh,"  cried  O'Hara,  with  a  giggle  at  his 
own  wit,  "  I  make  no  statement  that  I  cannot 
support  by  irresistible  argument." 

17  [  257  ] 


|§^  INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^ 

He  had  left  his  second  pistol  undisturbed 
in  the  holster.  But,  so  saying,  he  presented 
the  empty  one  in  so  pointed  a  manner  that 
the  Bishop  started  back,  and  Blue  Devil, 
peering  over  O'Hara's  shoulder,  gave  a  nerv- 
ous snort. 

"  Why,"  came  the  Bishop's  voice  from 
within  the  coach,  "  my  friend,  almost  thou 
persuadest  me!  But  I  could,  I  fancy,  better 
satisfy  you  of  my  conversion  to  your  thesis, 
were  you  to  lay  aside  for  the  moment  that 
overpowering  display  of  logic  which  tends  to 
confuse  the  wits  of  the  ordinary  thinker, 
and  to  let  us  discuss  the  matter  on  even 
ground." 

O'Hara  laughed  afresh.  He  appreciated 
the  readiness  with  which  Dr.  Thurlow  had 
kept  up  the  jesting  treatment  of  the  situa- 
tion ;  but  at  the  same  time  was  not  without 
an  airy  contempt  for  his  want  of  fight. 

"  Faith,  and  it 's  easy  for  a  clergyman  to 
have  a  character  !  "  he  thought,  as  he  dropped 
the  nose  of  his  useless  weapon  from  its  guard 
over  the  coach  window. 

The  Bishop's  countenance  appeared  once 
more  in  the  aperture.  He  raised  in  the  left 
hand  a  large  velvet  purse  which  gave  out  a 
charming  clink. 

[  ^58  ] 


THE    BLACK    LACE    MASK! 


"  Remember,  sir,"  he  cried  protestingly, 
"  that  this  is  robbing  the  widow  and  the 
orphan." 

"  Nay,  I  'm  near  an  orphan  myself,"  cried 
Lord   Kilcroney's  heir  cheerily. 

"Approach,  then,"  said  the  Bishop,  in  so 
silky  a  voice  that  O'Hara  might  well  have 
paused  before  obeying.  But  the  reckless 
Irishman  rushed  upon  his  fate  with  the 
blindness    of    those    devoted   to   doom. 


He  never  quite  knew  how  it  happened, 
and  it  was  all  over  ere  he  had  time  to  think. 
No  sooner  had  he  drawn  within  reach  of  the 
window  than  he  found  his  wrist  seized  and 
turned  in  a  grip  so  paralysing  that  the  pistol 
fell  from  his  fingers.  A  contest  ensued, 
mighty  enough  to  satisfy  even  his  wild  blood. 
The  Bishop  was  in  the  coach,  and  if  he  had 
undeniable  advantage  in  the  first  grip, 
O'Hara's  legs  were  the  stronger.  But  Blue 
Devil,  whether  disgusted  at  the  state  of 
affairs  or  seized  with  panic,  turned  the  scale 
to  his  master's  detriment. 

His  pulls  upon  the  rein  became  so  fren- 
zied that,  in  a  momentary  relaxation  of  Dr. 
Thurlow's  hold,  Mr.  O'Hara  was  thrown  flat 

[  259] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRSi 


on  his  back  in  the  snow.  Yet  another 
second,  and  he  found  himself  in  the  pre- 
dicament of  being  nailed  in  that  helpless 
posture  with  the  Bishop's  weighty  knee 
upon  his  chest,  and  with  the  further 
persuasion  of  a  cold  rim  of  steel  upon  his 
forehead. 

In  the  struggle  the  second  carriage  lamp 
had  been  extinguished.  The  murk  of  night 
was  all  around  them.  And  poor  Denis, 
hearing  the  clack  of  Blue  Devil's  rapidly 
retreating  heels  growing  ever  fainter  in  the 
distance,  realised  that  he  was  indeed  aban- 
doned. 

"  Come  down,  William  1 "  called  the  Bishop 
to  his  coachman.  "Come  down,  and  help 
me  to  secure  the  ruffian." 

The  Bishop  had  been  very  angry  all  the 
time,  as  Denis  dreamily  realised  upon  this 
sudden  outburst,  for  it  was  as  if  pent-up 
thunder  broke  over  his  head. 

"  1  'm  afraid  to  leave  the  horses,  my  lord," 
came  the  quavering  answer.     "And,  —  " 

"  Poltroon  ! "  rang  his  lordship's  retort, 
with  such  fulminating  heat  that  .  O'Hara 
trembled  lest  it  should  be  communicated  to 
the  pistol  at  his  temple. 

Dr.  Thurlow  gave  a  snort  like  an  angry 

[  260] 


^^THE    BLACK    LACE    MASK 


bull,  and  once  more  devoted  his  attention  to 
the  capture  of  his  thews  and  muscles. 

"  Up  with  you,  Master  Highwayman  !  "  he 
ordered,  relaxing  the  pressure  of  the  well- 
proportioned  episcopal  knee  as  he  spoke,  but 
maintaining  the  unpleasant  proximity  of  the 
pistol  mouth,  "and  into  the  coach  with  you  !  " 

Now,  as  O'Hara  rose  to  his  feet,  stiff  from 
his  fall  and  the  penetrating  damp,  he  felt  too 
firmly  convinced  of  the  Bishop's  phenomenal 
muscularity  to  dream  of  attempting  a  fresh 
tussle  with  him.  But  Dr.  Thurlow  was  a 
man  of  precaution.  A  new  grip  of  iron  fell 
upon  the  amateur  highwayman's  left  elbow 
from  behind  ere  he  had  quite  recovered  his 
balance,  and  the  disconcerting  barrel  rim  was 
thrust  afresh  against  his  ear  in  the  dark  with 
a  crack  that  made  his  head  ring. 

"  In  default  of  the  rope  you  deserve,  sir," 
said  the  Bishop,  "  I  must  even  continue  to 
use  the  moral  'suasion."  Upon  this  irony, 
O'Hara  in  a  trice  found  himself  inside  the 
chaise,  the  door  clapped  to.  "Drive  on, 
WilHam  ! " 

And,  as  William,  nothing  loath  this  time, 
whipped  up  the  mild  horses,  the  Bishop's 
bulk  was  let  down  upon  the  cushions  in  front 
of  his  prisoner. 

[i6i] 


^INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS^ 

"  I  should  like  to  see  your  face,  friend ; 
but,  since  you  have  disposed  of  both  my 
lamps,"  quoth  he,  "  I  must  even  wait  till  we 
reach  Devizes." 

•  •••••  *• 

Mistress  Kitty  Bellairs  had  abandoned  the 
elegant  solitude  of  her  parlour  for  the  more 
cheerful  bustling  atmosphere  of  the  inn  hall. 
Ostensibly  she  was  drawn  thither  by  the 
sweet  sounds  of  Miss  Lawrence's  spinet  in 
the  "library"  beyond  the  bar,  but  really  she 
had  tripped  downstairs  because,  hearing 
beneath  her  windows  the  arrival  of  a  solitary 
horseman,  she  had  thought  —  hoped — it 
mio^ht  be  O'Hara. 

Proportionate  was  her  disappointment  to 
recognise  in  the  new  guest  the  long  teeth, 
the  oblique  glance  and  lanky  figure  of  her 
pet  aversion.  Captain  Spicer. 

The  gallant  gentleman  who,  no  doubt, 
thought  the  inn  clear  by  this  time  of  all  the 
collateral  actors  in  a  certain  unpleasant  ad- 
venture, and  had  come  back,  it  seemed,  for 
the  valise  he  had  had,  in  his  precipitation, 
to  leave  behind  him,  appeared  no  more  re- 
joiced at  this  meeting  with  fair  Bellairs  than 
she  herself.  But,  after  an  involuntary  start 
of  dismay,  he  controlled  an   impulse  of  re- 

[  262  ] 


THE    BLACK    LACE    MASK 


treat  with  some  presence  of  mind  and  ad- 
vanced with  smirk  and  flourish  of  hat, 
exclaimins:  in  his  ultra-fashionable  accents: 

"  Is  it  passible  !  What  uncammon  stroke 
of  lack  to  find  you  still  here,  Madam!  I 
had  feared  all  the  merry  company  had  flawn. 
Our  foolish  young  friend  is  quite  recovered, 
I  trust  —  from  our  little  affair  of  honour." 

Mistress  Kitty  had  many  grudges  against 
Captain  Spicer,  but  his  culminating  offence 
was  in  not  being  Mr.  O'Hara  to-night. 

"  I  hardly  think  you  would  be  allowed  to 
go  loose,  sir,"  said  she  over  her  shoulder, 
"if  Mr.  Jernigan  had  not  recovered." 

From  the  discreet  smile  on  Master  Law- 
rence's countenance  to  the  titter  of  the 
serving  maid  behind  the  bar  and  the  sup- 
pressed guffaw  of  the  ostler  at  the  door,  this 
remark  of  the  lady  was  so  much  appreciated 
as  to  raise  a  yet  greener  tinge  upon  the 
Captain's  already  bilious  countenance. 

No  favourite  at  "  the  Bear  "  was  the  mili- 
tary gentleman.  He  was  hesitating  between 
fear  and  malevolence  ;  and  Mistress  Kitty, 
with  a  shrug,  had  turned  upon  her  heel  to 
seek  retirement  once  more,  when  a  very  un- 
wontedly  medley  of  sounds  directed  every- 
one's attention  to  the  street.     The  rumbling 

[263] 


^^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


of  a  coach,  the  clatter  of  horses'  hoofs  at  a 
broken  gallop,  and  loud  shouts  of  "Mur- 
der!" "Thieves!"  and  "Fire!" 

The  Bishop's  coachman  had  no  sooner 
found  himself  within  the  safe  circle  of  the 
town  than  his  overcharged  feelings  escaped 
control.  Dr.  Thurlow's  objurgations  pro- 
ducing no  result,  that  prelate,  to  his  extreme 
annoyance,  found  himself  the  centre  of  a 
rapidly  increasing  crowd  as  the  chaise  drew 
up  before  the  inn  door.  Therefore,  to  escape 
from  the  situation,  he  indomitably  seized  his 
highwayman  once  more  by  wrist  and  elbow 
and  propelled  him  before  him  into  the  lobby 
of  "  the  Bear  "  Inn. 

This  move  was  executed  with  such  master- 
fulness and  rapidity  that  the  door  had  closed 
before  the  spectators  realised  how  they  had 
been  defrauded  —  before  O'Hara  could  col- 
lect sufficient  energy  of  mind  or  body  to 
offer  resistance. 

Kitty's  velvet  eyes  grew  ever  wider  and 
rounder  as  they  gazed  upon  the  scene.  But 
when  they  fell  upon  the  lace-masked  figure 
in  its  sinister  yellow  coat,  mud-plastered,  a 
sudden  gleam  of  terror  awoke  in  their  pansy 
depths.  It  w-as  fortunate,  perhaps,  that  it 
should   be   considered   almost  an   indecency 

[  ^-64  ] 


THE    BLACK    LACE    MASK 


for  a  lady  of  quality  to  appear  before  the 
world  unrouged,  otherwise  her  pretty  cheeks 
might  have  challenged  attention. 

The  Bishop  removed  one  mighty  hand 
from  his  prisoner's  collar  and  was  about  to 
tear  away  the  black  face-cover,  when  O'Hara 
turned  his  head  and  whispered  in  the  epis- 
copal ear: 

"  For  God's  sake,  as  you  're  a  Christian,  as 
you  're  a  gentleman,  as  you  're  a  man,  my 
lord,  do  not  let  the  lady  see  my  face." 

The  Bishop  checked  his  movement,  and 
looked  from  the  speaker  to  Mistress  Bellairs. 
Kitty's  eye  was  still  fixed  upon  the  masked 
countenance  in  intense  endeavour  to  pene- 
trate the  disguise.  Of  course,  it  was  the 
most  absurd  thino-  in  the  world.  Other 
people  had  red  hair,  and  there  was  nothing 
to  prevent  a  highwayman  having  long  taper 
hands,  which  would  show  white  through 
their   s:rime  if  he  were  fair  of  skin  I 

Into  the  Bishop's  hesitation  O'Hara 
whispered   again : 

"  Sure,  it  was  an  empty  pistol  I  held  at 
your  lordship's  head  !  " 

Then  a  smile  distended  Doctor  Thurlow's 
well-chiselled  lips. 

"  Upon    that   score  we  are  quits,  friend," 

[265] 


^INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS|i 

he  whispered  back,  "  for  it  was  this  same 
empty  argument  you  found  so  convincing 
yourself." 

Then,  as  the  rigid  stillness  that  came  over 
the  highwayman's  figure  betrayed  how  the 
shot  told,  the  captor  went  on,  still  in  his 
prisoner's  ear  :  "  It  strikes  me  you  are  green 
at  your  trade,  sir;  why,  the  barrel  was  still 
smoking  when  you  held  it  in  at  the  win- 
dow !  " 

O'Hara  remained  speechless,  and  the 
Bishop,  now  in  high  good  humour  with 
himself,  drew  the  weapon  from  the  deep 
pocket  of  his  coat,  and  flung  it  on  the  bar. 

"Yes,  Master  Lawrence,"  cried  he  in  a 
loud  voice,  "  my  coach  has  been  stopped,  as 
you  see.  But,  as  you  see  also,  the  setter  of 
the  snare  has  fallen  into  his  own  trap.  Nay, 
I  have  not  yet  had  time  to  ascertain  the 
identity  of  the  ruffian.  But  that  ceremony 
we  will  postpone  till  a  fitter  moment. 
Ladies,"  said  the  Bishop,  with  a  small  smile, 
"  must  be  spared  uncomely  sights.  Keep 
an  eye  to  the  gentleman,  you  two  men. 
Ah!  'Mistress  Bellairs,  I  believe."  He  ad- 
vanced with  a  very  fine  grace. 

"Or.  Thurlow,"  said  the  lady  faintly,  then 
rallied,  fluttered   her   plumes   and   smiled. 

[  266  ] 


b'THE    BLACK   LACE    MASK 


O'Hara,  drawing  a  deep  breath  of  relief, 
realised  that  he  had  become  the  centre  of  an 
awe-struck  circle.  Little  as  he  now  cared 
in  his  despair  who  recognised  him,  so  long 
as  Kitty  did  not,  he  was  far  from  surmising 
that  there  was  not  one  of  the  inn  household 
that  had  not  already  fathomed  his  secret. 

A  general,  silent  consternation  had  fallen 
upon  the  gathered  establishment.  Boots  had 
recognised  his  legs,  Master  Lawrence  his 
pistol.  The  chambermaid  was  acquainted 
with  the  yellow  lining  of  a  coat  she  had 
herself  mended,  and,  where  it  was  flung  open 
at  the  neck,  she  could  actually  mark  the 
empty  space  once  adorned  by  that  pair  of 
silver  buttons  which  (with  a  smiling  word  of 
greater  value)  he  had  presented  to  her  for 
her  pains.  Lydia,  hanging  over  the  banis- 
ters, had  unerringly  discerned  the  pattern  of 
a  mysteriously  lost  piece  of  her  mistress's 
black  Spanish  lace.  The  very  ostlers  could 
have  sworn  to  the  clean  cut  of  his  knees. 
All  knew,  but  none  spoke.  During  his 
ten  days'  stay  he  had  somehow,  in  various 
ways,  found  a  soft  corner  in  everybody's 
heart;  there  was  a  general  breath  of  relief 
as  the  Bishop  granted  reprieve.  With  a 
curious    unanimity    of    silence    they    would 

[267] 


j^  INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


have  scorned  to  betray  him  even  to  each 
other. 

"  I  can  scarcely  credit  it,"  cried  Mistress 
Bellairs  with  a  nervous  laugh,  "  that  your 
lordship  should  actually  have  been  stopped 
on  the  road  like  the  common  laity." 

"  The  gentleman  yonder,"  answered  Dr. 
Thurlow,  with  a  noticeable  emphasis  on 
the  noun,  "  endeavoured  to  persuade  me 
that  he  had  as  good  a  right  to  my  purse  as 
I  myself ;  but  I  fancy  "  —  and  the  Bishop 
licrhtlv  ran  either  hand  over  a  muscular  arm 
—  "that  I  had  somewhat  the  better  of  the 
argument  all  round." 

"  Oh,  we  are  aware,  my  lord,"  retorted 
Kitty,  with  her  prettiest  smile,  "  that  it  does 
not  do  for  a  man  to  pit  himself  against  you, 
cither  morally  or  physically." 

Again  the  Bishop  smiled.  Facts  were 
indubitable,  and  he  certainly  had  an  un- 
wonted record  for  a  divine. 

"  I  vow,"  proceeded  the  lady  coquettishly, 
"  't  is  most  prodigious  strange  that  I  should 
be  loitering  in  the  public  hall  thus!  But, 
indeed,  'tis  your  lordship  must  bear  the 
blame  I  have  not  the  heart  of  a  mouse 
myself,  but  I  never  could  resist  a  tale  of 
valour." 

[  ^-68  ] 


^THE    BLACK    LACE    M  A  S  K  ^ 

She  clasped  her  hands  and  cast  upon  him 
a  glance  of  velvet  softness  from  between  half- 
closed  lids.  Her  cheeks  were  burning  with 
a  lovelier  scarlet  than  hare's-foot  had  ever 
spread.  His  lordship  (not  an  unsusceptible 
man)  was  distinctly  stimulated. 

She  saw  the  impression  produced  —  Incom- 
parable Bellairs  ! — and  hastened  to  follow  up 
the  advantage.  It  was  so  imperative  to  draw 
the  Bishop  away,  if  anything  was  to  be  done 
for  that  rufKian  of  a  highwayman,  whose  hair 
shone  red  through  his  damp  powder,  whose 
hands  were  long  and  white  like  a  gentleman's. 

"  My  supper  is  about  to  be  served.  As  I 
imagine  you  have  not  yet  ordered  yours,  may 
I  not  have  the  honour  of  your  lordship's 
company }  " 

"  Dear  madam,"  responded  the  Bishop, 
with  elegant  readiness,  "  but  the  time  to  see  to 

my  prisoner "     With  what  unction  did 

the  worthy  divine  roll  the  words  upon  his 
tongue. 

"  Fie !  "  she  interrupted,  "  do  you  put  the 
highwayman  before  the  lady  }  " 

"  Nay,  madam,  but  duty  before  pleasure  !  " 

"  Nevertheless,"  answered  Kitty  pat,  "  the 
creature  can't  spoil  by  keeping,  and  my 
partridges  will." 

[269] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS^^ 


The  Bishop  laughed  gently.  A  little  plump 
roast  partridge  in  company  with  a  little 
])lump  lady  of  virtue,  wit  and  quality  — 
agreeable  perspective ! 

"  Why,  then "  said  he. 

"  Your  lordship's  prisoner,"  here  inter- 
vened the  landlord,  "  will  be  as  safe  in  my 
loft  as  in  the  jug  itself,  and  he  can  be  charged 
in  the  morning." 

"  I  shall  hold  you  warranty,  Mr.  Lawrence," 
said  the  prelate  with  warning  sternness. 

IVLastcr  Lawrence  rubbed  his  hands  with  a 
superior  smile. 

"  Wife  !  "  called  he  into  the  bar,  "  conduct 
his  lordship  to  his  apartment." 

The  Bishop  moved  majestically  away  in 
the  wake  of  his  buxom  hostess.  But  yet 
Kitty  lingered. 

Captain  Spicer,  a  forgotten  personality  in 
the  chimney  corner,  itching  for  the  revelation 
of  that  identity  which  even  he  suspected, 
could  now  no  longer  put  off  the  moment  of 
gratified  malice.  He  tiptoed  his  way  round 
towards  the  motionless  figure,  and,  suddenly 
pushing  in  between  the  guard  of  ostlers, 
extended  his  bony  hand  towards  a  hanging 
tag  of  the  veilins:  lace. 

Mistress   Bellairs,  eyes  and  thoughts  still 

[270] 


THE    BLACK    LACE    MASK 


fixed  upon  the  torturing  enigma,  caught  her 
breath  witli  what  was  ahiiost  a  little  cry.  She 
saw  the  concealing  folds  jerked  upwards  for 
a  second,  had  a  vision,  swift  as  lightning,  of 
O'Hara's  pale  face,  and  in  that  instant  their 
glances  met.  The  next  the  mask  was  pulled 
dow^n  again  into  its  place ;  and,  swift  as 
thunder-clap  follows  flash,  retribution  de- 
scended upon  the  spy.  Before  he  had  had 
time  to  utter  a  word.  Captain  Spicer,  struck 
full  upon  his  grinning  jaw,  fell  like  a  stone 
at  O'Hara's  feet. 

Dr.  Thurlow,  who  had  paused  on  the  first 
landing  to  glance  over  the  banisters,  smiled 
to  himself,  then  shrugged  his  shoulders  in 
scorn. 

"  'T  is  the  fate  of  peeping  Toms,"  quoth  he. 

Leaving  the  damaged  gentleman  to  be 
carried  away  between  two  vastly  unsym- 
pathetic post-boys,  Master  Lawrence  plucked 
the  prisoner  by  the  sleeve.  And  as  O'Hara 
suffered  himself  to  be  led  away,  in  miserable 
submission,  to  an  improvised  lock-up,  he 
heard   Kitty  cry  in  a  tone  of  shrill   mirth: 

"  Don't  neglect  my  supper,  landlord,"  and 
the  sound  fell  on  his  heart  like  a  blow. 

Master  Lawrence  went  up  the  creaking- 
stairs  beside  the  still  masked  figure  without 

[271  ] 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS 


uttering  a  single  word.  But  he  walked 
heavily  and  shook  his  head  from  time  to 
time  as  he  thought  to  himself :  "  My  mind 
misgave  me  when  he  refused  the  stirrup- 
cup  ! 

Despite  her  anxiety  for  the  condition  of 
the  partridges,  it  was  after  all  Mistress  Kitty 
who  kept  the  Bishop  waiting.  She  was 
closeted  with  Miss  Lydia  in  such  earnest 
conclave  that  Mistress  Lawrence  herself  was 
at  last  fain  to  summon  her  forth.  But,  when 
the  little  lady  emerged,  it  was  with  such 
sparkling  eyes  and  happy  rose-red  cheeks 
that  Dr.  Thurlow  forgot  on  the  spot  his 
rising  sense  of  injury. 

Mr.  O'Hara  had  laid  aside  his  mask  at  last ; 
he  sat  on  the  edge  of  the  pallet-bed  —  which 
the  post-boys  never  found  too  hard  for  sound 
sleep  —  and  reviewed  the  situation  with  the 
calmness  of  despair.  Of  the  royal  supper 
which  Master  Lawrence  had  sent  up  to 
him,  he  had  scarcely  tasted  anything  but 
that  bottle  from  his  favourite  bin.  The 
very  delicacy  with  which  his  tastes  had 
been  studied,  reminded  him  unpleasantly  of 
the  condemned  man  s  statutory  meal  before 
execution. 

[272] 


THE    BLACK    LACE    MASK 


The  deference  with  which  even  the  ex- 
tempore guard  treated  him  seemed  to  savour 
of  the  last  pity.  Death  and  he  had  hob- 
nobbed too  often  for  him  to  mind  much  the 
thought  of  the  bony  comrade's  final  embrace. 
But  now  that  he  had  brought  the  fate  upon 
himself,  the  thought  of  that  dismal  dance  on 
air,  of  the  chain  gibbet  at  the  cross-roads,  no 
longer  seemed  to  him  to  be  in  the  light  of  a 
fittincr  revenoe  on  the  woman  who  had 
slighted  him,  or  of  a  gallant  defiance  to  an 
unappreciative  world. 

"  Well,  God  help  me ! "  said  poor  Denis. 
"  It 's  not  that  life  would  be  so  sweet  — 
and  a  man  can  always  make  a  fight  for 
it,  and  get  shot  on  the  quiet.  But  I  '11  not 
bring  trouble  on  these  good  creatures  here. 
I  '11  wait  till  they  turn  the  magistrate's  dogs 
on  me." 

A  solitary  tallow-candle  threw  more 
shadow  than  light  in  the  long  bare  attic. 

Ostler  Joe,  who  had  been  deputed  to 
watch  the  captive,  had  tried  to  raise  his 
spirits  by  varied  accounts  of  all  the  gentle- 
men of  the  road  he  had  personally  known, 
by  highly  sympathetic  details  concerning 
their  last  moments,  but  had  at  last  given 
up  the  task;  and,  after  philosophically  dis- 
i8  [  273  ] 


jaiNCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


posing  himself  of  O'Hara's  disdained  repast, 
he  was  snoring  the  snores  of  the  just  upon  a 
sack  of  straw  under  the  dormer. 

It  must  have  been  close  upon  midnight 
when  there  came  a  sound  which,  although  it 
had  in  it  something  of  a  patter,  something  of 
a  scratching,  something  also  of  a  scurry,  was 
yet  quite  distinct  from  the  rain,  the  rats,  and 
the  mice.  It  was  accompanied  by  the  creak- 
ing of  boards  and  approached  steadily  to  halt 
at  close  proximity.  Then  it  was  resumed 
with  fresh  scratching  and  a  sharp  scrunch; 
an  unnoticed  door  at  the  end  of  the  loft  was 
slowly  opened  before  O'Hara's  astonished 
gaze  and  a  beckoning  hand  was  passed 
through  the  aperture.  He  rubbed  his  eyes. 
No,  he  was  not  dreaming.  (The  snores  of 
the  ostler  now  became  quite  appalling  in  am- 
plitude.) O'Hara  rose  and  advanced.  His 
heavy  boots  and  tired  feet  made  a  terrible 
noise  —  but,  heavens,  how  that  ostler  slept! 
With  that  beckonins:  hand  before  him,  which 
became  ever  whiter  and  smaller  as  he  ap- 
proached it,  O'Hara  pressed  on  the  length 
of  the  garret.  When  he  reached  the  door 
the  hand  laid  hold  of  him  suddenly  with  a 
nipping  grasp,  and  he  was  drawn  outside  in 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye. 

[  274] 


#THE    BLACK    LACE    MASKil 

Then,  to  his  intense,  if  unreasoning,  dis- 
appointment, Mr.  O'Hara  recognised,  by  the 
light  of  a  lantern  placed  on  the  floor  at 
her  feet,  the  sharp  features  of  Miss  Lydia. 
But  the  next  instant  his  mercurial  spirits 
leaped  from  frosty  depths  to  summer  heights. 
What!  His  little  Kitty  did  care  after  all 
whether  he  walked  or  hung!  Then  was  life 
a  precious  and  delightful  thing  again  —  a 
thing  to  be  fought  for. 

Miss  Lydia  was  nothing  if  not  prompt; 
she  left  him  little  time  for  reflection.  Whip- 
ping up  her  light,  she  nipped  him  once  more 
shrevvishly  by  the  wrist  and  hurried  him 
along  passages  and  down  stairs  at  a  rate  that 
made  his  brain  spin.  They  reached  at  length 
a  dull  basement  room,  which,  by  the  faint 
lantern-shine,  from  its  arrays  of  brushes,  pots, 
and  travel-stained  footgear,  he  identified  as 
"  boots' "  own  dominions.  Lydia  set  her 
lioht  on  the  table   with  a  bano^. 

"  Off  with  your  coat,  sir,"  she  ordered. 

"  Why,  me  darling  ?  " 

"There  is  no  time  for  conversation,  sir; 
you  've  managed  your  affairs  too  clever  for 
that.  Off  with  that  coat !  It 's  not  the  first 
time  I  've  had  the  dressing  of  you.  And  it's 
another  sort  of  dressing  I  'd  give  you  if  I  had 

[  275] 


INCOMPARABLE    BELLAIRS 


my  way!  "  She  had  the  coat  in  her  hands 
by  this  time,  and  was  rolhng  it  up  with  a 
vindictive  energy  that  gave  point  to  her 
words.  "  Now  I  '11  trouble  you  for  your 
boots,    Mr.    O'Hara." 

"  My   boots  !  " 

"Your  boots.     And  quick  about  them  !  " 

She  waited  acidly.  Then,  tucking  the 
coat  under  one  arm,  seized  the  desired  ob- 
jects in  both  hands  and  staggered  with  them 
towards  the  door.  There,  to  O'Hara's  in- 
tense mystification,  her  burden  was  received 
by  some  unseen  third  party. 

There  followed  a  rapid  interchange  of 
whispers,  a  suppressed  guffaw,  and  Miss 
Lydia,  banging  the  door,  reappeared  into  the 
room.  Mystification  was  replaced  by  stupe- 
faction in  O'Hara's  mind,  as  he  now  beheld 
in  her  hands,  not  the  yellow-lined  garment  of 
his  infamy,  but  a  handsome,  sober  roquclaiire 
which  had  been  packed  away  in  the  box  left 
under  Mr.  Lawrence's  charw  when  he  had 
started  on  his  ill-fated   expedition. 

"  You  '11  find,  I  fancy,  a  pair  of  boots  of 
your  own  in  that  row,"  said  the  damsel 
briefly,  "  and  you  'd  look  less  of  a  zany  if 
you  'd  put  them  on  instead  of  standing  there 
in  your  stocking  feet." 

[  ^-76  ] 


THE    BLACK    LACE    MASK 


And,  as  nevertheless  he  still  stood  and 
stared,  she  herself  (dropping  apostrophes, 
sharp  as  hail,  upon  fools  who  could  not  help 
themselves  and  idiots  who  deserved  to  be 
left  to  their  fates)  ran  to  the  indicated  spot, 
picked  out  a  pair  of  ancient  top-boots  (once, 
indeed,  Mr.  O'Hara's)  and  flung  them  towards 
him.  In  a  minute  more  her  will  was  ac- 
complished. And  there  was  something  so 
restoring  to  his  confidence  and  self-esteem, 
in  standing  again  in  the  garb  of  a  respected 
individual,  that  Denis  gave  a  subdued  w^ioop, 
made  a  pirouette,  and  caught  Lydia  by  the 
waist. 

The  next  instant  a  resounding  slap  de- 
scended upon  his  cheek.  The  situation  w^as 
delightfully  familiar.  It  really  seemed  as  if 
the  miserable  Denis,  sitting  in  the  garret  and 
looking  forward  to  the  gallows,  must  have 
been  the  mere  creation  of  a  nightmare.  But 
Miss  Lydia's  irate  cry  promptly  dispelled  the 
pleasing  fancy- 

"  I  '11  have  you  know,  sir,  I  keep  my  lips 
for  honest  men  !  And  if  it  were  n't  for  my 
mistress " 

Up  went  the  barometer  once  more.  If  it 
were  not  for  her  mistress  ! 

He  would    have  been  off    into  a    dream. 

[277  ] 


fgi  INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^ 

There  is  a  stage  of  lover's  love  that  seems  to 
be  all  dreamland.  But  Lydia  was  a  young 
person  calculated  to  keep  a  man's  wits  awake. 
She  could  pinch  and  she  could  shake  as 
shrewdly  as  a  north-east  wind. 

"  Now  mark  you,  sir,"  cried  she,  "  there  's 
rope  still  a'dangling  over  your  head.  And  if 
you  don't  want  to  dance  on  nothing,  come 
next  assizes,  you  '11  be  pleased  to  pay  atten- 
tion to  what   I  'm  saying." 

"  Sure,  I  'm  listening  with  all  my  ears  and 
eyes,  darling!  " 

"  Your  horse  has  come  back,  sir.  Some 
beasts  has  a  deal  more  sense  than  men.  Now 
when  a  horse  comes  back  to  stable  alone  it's 
like  enough  his  rider  's  thrown.  And  unless 
the  rider  's  broke  his  skull  (which  is  too  good 
for  some  people  which  is  born  for  other 
ends),  if  that  rider  is  n't  the  greatest  gaby 
between  this  and  Land's  End,  it's  like  he'll 
follow  his  horse's  example  and  walk  back  to 
the  nearest  shelter." 

Here  she  took  him  by  the  elbow  and  con- 
ducting him  to  a  flight  of  steps  at  the  further 
end  of  the  room  informed  him  that  they  led 
down  into  the  cellar,  where  he  would  find  a 
door  giving  upon  a  back  street. 

"And,  if  then,"  added  she,  "you  can't  find 

[  ^^78  ] 


THE    BLACK    LACE    MASK 


help  for  yourself,  you  '11  be  past  anybody 
ses. 

He  could  hardly  keep  himself  from  danc- 
ing, whistling,  whooping  in  his  ever  increas- 
ing exhilaration.  To  be  free,  to  have  a  fresh 
adventure,  delicious  in  audacity  and  humour, 
before  him ;  to  be  risking  his  life  still,  and  to 
know  that  Kitty  cared.  Could  even  an  Irish- 
man invent  a  better  turn  of  fate  ? 

He  snatched  a  kiss,  and,  as  Lydia  whisked 
away,  she  dropped  him  a  last  superfluous 
piece  of  advice,  which  showed  that,  after  all, 
even  she  was  rescuing  the  good-for-nought 
con  amove: 

"  If  you  could  find  a  good  deep  puddle,  I 
should  advise  you  to  fall  down  in  it,  Mr. 
O'Hara." 

"  Scald  me,"  cried  the  ostler,  with  intense 
astonishment  on  his  grinning  face.  "  'T  is 
never  you,  sir!     Master  Lawrence,  Master  — 

House "  raising  a  mighty  bellow,  then 

turning  again  to  O'Hara — "Blue  Devil's 
come  home,  sir.  We  was  afraid  some  acci- 
dent .  .  . !  " 

The  house  door  was  flung  wide  open,  and 
out  popped  Master  Lawrence's  good  grey 
head. 

[  279] 


INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRSS 


"Tis  Mr.  O'Hara,"  bellowed  the  ostler,  in 
desperate  excitement. 

Mr.  O'Hara  was  seized  and  dragged  into 
the  hall  by  both  hands.  Before  he  had  time 
even  to  begin  to  narrate  the  carefully  pre- 
pared account  of  his  mishap  in  the  dark 
he  was  borne  down  by  Master  Lawrence's 
effusive  flood  of  greeting. 

"  Forgive  me,  sir,  that  I  should  so  presume, 
but  I  cannot  refrain  from  shaking  you  by  the 
hand  !  We  have  been  in  a  prodigious  state 
of  anxiety  about  you,  sir.  Wife  —  "  in  sten- 
torian shouts  —  "wife,  here  is  Mr.  O'Hara! 
safe  and  sound.  The  women,  sir,  have  been 
crying  their  eyes  out.  When  Blue  Devil 
came  home  riderless,  says  Mistress  Law- 
rence: 'He's  dead,  he's  gone!  I  always 
said,'  says  she,  '  he  's  too  good  to  live  ! '  We 
dared  not  tell  the  lady,"  said  the  excellent 
man,  sinking  his  voice  and  still  pumping 
O'Hara's  hand  up  and  down.  "  All  daylong 
she  kept  asking  if  Mr.  O'Hara  's  not  back 
yet.  And  Mistress  Lawrence  says:  'Let 
her  have  the  partridges  first.'  Ah,  here 
comes  Mistress  Lawrence  herself  —  Wife," 
cried  the  landlord  boisterously,  "  Mr.  O'Hara's 
been  telling  me  all  about  it.  He  was  thrown 
in  Coombc  Common.     That  horse  of  Lord 

[  ^'80  ] 


THE    BLACK    LACE    MASK 


Mandeville's,  as  Mr.  O'Hara  says,  was  ever 
a  tricky  beast.  And  that  there  bit  of  road 
by  Coombe  Hollow,  wife,  is  a  nasty  one,  as 
Mr.  O'Hara  truly  says.  He's  had  a  fall  on 
his  back,  as  you  see.  Mistress  Lawrence. 
But  there,  as  he  says,  all 's  well   that  ends 

well !  " 

"  Dear,  dear,"  said  Mistress  Lawrence, 
laughing  and  crying  together.  "This  has 
been  a  night  of  adventure !  " 

"  Aye,  aye,"  cried  the  landlord  with  a  fixed 
eye  and  a  very  loud  laugh.  "  His  lordship 
the  Bishop  (whom  you  know  we  expected, 
sir),  he  was  stopped,  sir,  on  the  road,  actually 
stopped  !  But,  aha !  we  've  got  the  ruffian 
upstairs    safe    enough  ! " 

"Aha-ha!"  echoed  Mr.  O'Hara  with  a 
similarly  fixed  eye. 

"  Is  that  Mr.  O'Hara }  "  cried  a  shrill 
pipe,  upon  the  stair.  And  Miss  Lydia, 
all  lace  apron  and  silk  flounces,  rushed  into 
the  hall.  "  Do  not  tell  me,"  she  cried,  "  it 
is  Mr.  O'Hara!  Oh!  is  he  hurt?  Has 
he  broken  his  head  or  his  leg?  Oh!  what 
I  have  gone  through  this  night,  seeing  him 
in  my  mind,  lying  in  his  gore,  while  my 
poor,  unconscious  mistress  ate  partridge 
with  the  Bishop!" 

[281] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


The  three  turned  in  speechless  admiration 
to  gaze  upon  the  Abigail,  who,  clasping  her 
hands,  let  off  a  half  dozen  hysterical  small 
shrieks,  which  formed  the  culminating  point 
of  her  own  satisfaction.  Then  she  protested, 
in  pathetic  accents,  that  she  could  not  delay 
an  instant  before  imparting  to  her  mistress 
the  exciting  news  of  the  night's  anxiety  and 
its  happy  end ;  and  was  up  the  stairs  again 
in  a  twinkle. 

Seldom  had  that  gifted  damsel  had  oppor- 
tunities that  afforded  her  finer  scope.  En- 
joying herself  to  the  ends  of  her  finger  tips, 
she  staggered  into  the  parlour,  where  Mistress 
Bellairs  and  her  distinguished  guest  had 
arrived  at  the  agreeable  stage  of  post-pran- 
dial sympathy,  when  chairs  are  drawn  a  little 
closer  to  each  other,  the  last  o;lass  of  wine  is 
sipj)ed,  a  nut  nibbled  to  the  accompaniment 
of  mutually  appreciated  wit  and  unctuous 
little  laughs.  Both  looked  up  with  amaze- 
ment upon  Lydia's  tempestuous  entrance. 
At  least  Kitty's  large  and  lovely  gaze  ex- 
pressed as  intense  a  surprise  as  the  Bishop's 
full  and  haughty  eye. 

"Oh!"  cried  the  handmaid,  advancinsr 
with  a  series  of  jerks  and  still  pressing  that 
region  of  her  trim  bodice  which  she  believed 

[  282  ] 


^THE    BLACK    LACE    MASK^ 

to  be  the  residence  of  her  virginal  heart, 
"O  ma'am!  can  I  speak  at  last,  and  is  the 
anguish  of  this  night  of  terror  over?  Mr. 
O'Hara  's  not  dead,  ma'am " 

"What  is  this?"  cried  Kitty,  rising 
straight  up  from  her  chair,  both  her  little 
hands  in  the  air  —  "what  does  she  say? 
Mr.  O'Hara  dead?" 

"Heavens,"  cried  Lydia,  "my  mistress  is 
swooning !  "  and  made  a  dash  in  time  to 
catch  the  fair  form  in  her  arms.  Kitty 
turned  her  head  so  that  her  face  was  hidden 
upon  her  woman's  neck  and  became  alarm- 
ingly rigid  all  over. 

Really,  in  these  days  of  rouge  it  was 
very  difficult  for  a  lady  of  quality  to  manage 
her  little  affairs  of  the  affections  with 
verisimilitude. 

"  La,  your  lordship,  't  is  the  only  man  my 
poor  mistress  has  ever  cared  for!  "  exclaimed 
Miss  Lydia.  "  What  a  zany  am  I  to  have 
gone  and  frightened  her!" 

The  Bishop  had  risen  to  his  feet  upon  a 
first  impulse  of  anxious  concern.  But  here 
he  suddenly  sat  down  again  and  remarked 
drily  : 

"  But  if  the  gentleman  is  not  hurt " 

"  Now,"  cried  Lydia,  "  and  I  never  thought 

[283] 


INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS 


of  that !  Will  your  lordship  support  my 
lady  —  for  an  instant.  And  I  will  fetch 
Mr.  O'Hara." 

No  gentleman,  be  he  forty  times  a  bishop, 
could  refuse  the  tender  task.  Before  he  had 
even  time  to  consider,  Dr.  Thurlow  found 
the  lovely  burden  in  his  embrace. 

Kitty's  rigidity  relaxed.  She  sighed 
faintly  and  opened  her  long  lashes,  very  close 
to  his  face.  What  a  round  frail  thing  it 
was !  What  a  wisp  of  fragrant  lace  and  soft 
silken  stuff,  and  withal  what  a  delicate 
solidity ! 

"Oh,  dear!"  said  Kitty.  "Did  they  say 
Mr.  O'Hara  was  dead  ?  "  Her  lips  trembled, 
and  tears,  genuine  tears,  welled  up  to  those 
fabulous  lashes. 

Dr.  Thurlow  deposited  her  in  a  chair,  a 
little  hastily  in  spite  of  his  gentleness  ;  great 
steps  were  approaching  with  headlong  rapid- 
ity in  the  passage  without. 

He  had  just  time  to  say  with  distinct 
emphasis :  "  Mr.  O'Hara  is  perfectly  safe, 
my  dear  madam,"  when  the  latter  gen- 
tleman burst  into  the  room.  Kitty  sprang 
to  her  feet  and  llcw  like  a  bird  into  his 
arms.  If  her  vivacity  was  sorncwhat  singu- 
lar in  one  just  out  of  a  swoon,   it   was  "in- 

[  284  ] 


THE    BLACK   LACE    MASK 


stinct,  at  all  events,  with  much  sincerity  of 
emotion. 

Dr.  Thurlow  contemplated  the  pair  a 
minute  or  two  with  no  unbenevolent  eye ; 
then  he  cleared  his  throat,  and  Denis  and 
his  Kitty,  falling  apart,  turned  flushed  and 
anxious  faces  upon  him. 

"  Madam,"  said  the  divine,  "  I  rejoice  that 
your  anxiety  should  have  so  fai^ourable  a 
termination — Mr.  O'Hara,  we  have  met 
before."  He  paused  a  second;  and,  as  the 
usually  glib  Irishman  seemed  unready  with 
a  response,  the  prelate  proceeded  with  a 
twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"  I  will  not  tax  your  memory  at  this 
auspicious  moment.  If  I  remember  right,  it 
was  ...  in  Bath." 

He  paused  again  to  bend  over  Kitty's 
hand.  "  I  thank  you,  dear  Mistress  Bellairs, 
for  a  most  entertaining  evening.  And  pleas- 
ure having  superseded  business,  the  sterner 
call  now  awaits  me.  I  have  yet  to  examine 
my  prisoner." 

If  Lydia  ever  deserved  well  of  her  em- 
ployer, it  was  at  this  crucial  moment. 

"  I  fear  your  lordship  will  get  little  out  of 
him,"  she  intervened  pertly.  "  They  tell  me 
downstairs  that   the  wretch's  jaw  must   be 

[285] 


^INCOMPARABLE  BELLAIRS^ 

either  dislocated  or  broken,  for  he  cannot 
articulate  a  single  word." 

"  Indeed,"  said  his  lordship.  And  his 
red  eyebrows  travelled  a  perceptible  inch 
higher, 

"  O  Bishop,  Bishop,"  cried  Kitty  in  a  high, 
excited  voice,  menacing  him  with  her  finger, 
"  your  hand  is  more  mighty  even  than  you 
wot  of !  " 

The  Bishop's  glance  rested  upon  her  once 
again  with  singular  expression.  Then,  with 
his  hand  on  the  door-handle,  he  turned  once 
more  to  the  Irishman. 

"  Mr.  O'Hara  must  really  be  quite  puz- 
zled," quoth  he,  urbanely. 

"  Oh,"  cried  the  latter,  with  a  return  of 
his  old  audacious  spirit,  "  they  were  telling 
me  something  about  it  in  the  hall.  I  hope 
your  lordship  will  not  be  hard  on  the  poor 
devil !  " 

"  I  trust  that  I  shall  never  be  hard  on 
anybody,"  said  the  divine  enigmatically. 
And  then  he  added  with  a  note  of  quizzical 
meanincr : 

O 

"  You  must  have  had  a  very  bad  fall,  Mr. 
O'Hara,  to  put  you  into  that  condition " 

And  as  O'Hara,  in  fresh  perturbation, 
glanced    down    at    his    mud-plastered    gar- 

[286] 


THE    BLACK    LACE    MASK 


ments,  the  Bishop  made  his  co7ige  and  was 
gone. 

The  post-boy  was  still  aggressively  snoring 
when  Master  Lawrence  conducted  his  episco- 
pal guest  into  the  attic  chamber.  And  there, 
indeed,  lay  the  prisoner,  with  the  identical 
lace  mask  gracefully  disposed  across  his  ban- 
daged countenance,  wrapped  in  the  identical 
turned  coat.  True,  the  figure  within  the 
yellow  folds  seemed  to  have  shrunk  most 
remarkably  since  supper-time,  and  the  high- 
wayman was  now  groaning  in  a  manner  very 
unlike  the  stoic  calm  with  which  he  had  pre- 
viously submitted  to  the  inevitable.  Nay,  it 
would  even  seem  as  if,  at  sight  of  the  Bishop, 
the  wretched  creature  had  something^  of  im- 
portance  to  communicate,  for  he  made 
efforts  to  rise  upon  the  pallet,  gesticulating 
and  producing  strenuous  but  incoherent 
sounds. 

The  Bishop  remained  regarding  him  in 
silence  for  so  lengthy  a  period  that  Master 
Lawrence  might  have  been  observed  to 
change  colour  more  than  once,  while  he 
stammered  something  incoherent  about 
obtaining  a  warrant  the   first   thing  in  the 


mornmg. 


[287] 


^INCOMPARABLE   BELLAIRS^ 

But,  Dr.  Thurlovv  turning  his  full  eye  upon 
him,  the  words  instantly  died  upon  the  land- 
lord's lips,  and  the  Bishop  smiled  in  a  most 
disconcerting  manner. 

"  Nay,"  said  his  lordship  then,  "  send 
rather  for  the  surgeon.  The  misguided 
creature  is  punished  enough  and  I  trust  it 
will  be  a  lesson  to  him.  —  Let  it  be  a  lesson 
to  you,  young  man,"  said  he  sternly. 

The  ungrateful  highwayman  howled  more 
dismally  than  ever  as  the  magnanimous 
words  fell  upon  his  ears. 

"  The  darling  Bishop  !  "  cried  Kitty  when 
Miss  Lydia  rushed  in  with  the  last  astound- 
ing news.  "I  vow  and  declare  that  I  would 
marry  him  to-morrow  without  the  least 
hesitation  if " 

"If  what,  my  jewel.?"  said  O'Hara.  He 
was  holding  her  very  comfortably  by  the 
waist.  And  only  a  second  before,  with  a 
countenance  of  seraphic  bliss,  amounting 
almost  to  imbecility,  he  had  volunteered  the 
statement  that  he  'd  not  complain  if  they  did 
hang  him  "after  that."  "If  what,  pulse  of 
my  soul  ? " 

"  If  I  did  not  feel  it  my  duty  to  sacrifice 
my  life  and  look  after  a  perfect  gaby  who  is 

[  288  ] 


THE    BLACK    LACE    MASK^ 


incapable  of  taking  care  of  himself,"  cried 
the  future  Lady  Kilcroney  sharply ;  and 
rapped  him  over  the  knuckles  with  her  fan. 

But  she  dimpled  adorably  as  she  spoke  — 
Incomparable  Bellairs! 


19 


[289] 


INCOMPARABLE 
BELLAIRS.  By  Agnes  ^ 
Egerton  Castle.  Arranged 
and  printed  for  Frederick 
A.  Stokes  Company 
at  The  University  Press^ 
Cambridge,  U.  S.  A.,  in 
November,   MDCCCCIII 


Comments  on  ''The  Star  Dreamer' 


THE 
STAR  DREAMER 


"The  Star  Dreamer"  holds  us  in  a  tension  and 
leaves  us  enthralled. — Philadelphia  Book  News. 

"  The  Star  Dreamer  "  is 
a  delightful  example  of  the 
sunny  and  winsome  books, 
full  of  the  joy  of  living,  like 
its  authors'  "Young 
April."  It  has  the  inde- 
scribable buoyancy  of  youth 
in  it. —  Chicago  Record- 
Herald. 

Here  is  a  novel  that  can- 
not be  too  heartily  recom- 
mended. It  stands  alone, 
in  an  atmosphere  of  its 
own,  in  a  garden  where 
flower  romance  and  poetry 
and  the  old  tale  of  human  love,  in  a  light  that  is  mel- 
low and  golden.  —  New  York  Mail  and  Express. 

"The  Star  Dreamer"  is  a  model  of  what  a  ro- 
mance should  be.  Undoubtedly  the  best  book  yet 
written  by  these  authors.  —  The  Athenaum  (London). 

To  those  who  love  a  romantic  story,  who  delight 
to  lose  themselves  for  the  moment  in  the  magic  of  such 
a  dream  world  as  that  of  "  Young  April,"  this  new 
novel,  "The  Star  Dreamer,"  will  afford  unalloyed 
pleasure.  —  Milwaukee  Free-Press. 


BY 

AGNES  &  EGERTON  CASTLE 


Frederick  A.  Stokes  Cotiipatiy,  Publishers 


Comments  on  "  The  Bath  Comedy^ 


Tlje  Bath  Comedy 


It  is  as  blithe  as  a  May  day  when  the  heart  is 
young.    ...  —  Philadelphia  Telegraph. 

The  fantasy  is  of  the 
daintiest,  the  humor  is  of 
the  sunniest,  ...  A  beau- 
tiful book,  beautifully  writ- 
ten. —  New  I'ork  T'ribune. 

A  right  merry  tale.  .  .  . 
The  narrative  is  breathless 
in  its  interest,  and  yet  so 
witty  and  polished  that  pe- 
rusal becomes  a  double 
pleasure.  —  Detroit  Free- 
Press. 

yfgnes  &Egerton  Castle  ^S  incident   followS  upon 

incident,  each  touched  with 
the  very  spirit  of  comedy, 
the  delight  of  the  reader  grows  apace,  and  he  feels  that 
he  would  gladly  remain  in  such  company  for  an  indefi- 
nite period.  —  Chicago  Dial. 

A  sparkling,  dancing  story  .  .  .  like  one  of  Wat- 
teau's  pictures  —  gay,  artificial,  yet  delightful.  —  Buf- 
falo Express. 

The  author  of  "  The  School  for  Scandal"  might 
have  written  it  and  his  reputation  not  have  suffered 
seriously  thereby.  —  Chicago  Times- Herald, 


Frederick  A.  Stokes  Company,  Publishers 


5QUJHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACIUTy 


AA    000  365  543    8 


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